Don’t get me wrong,I have nothing againstJehovah’s Witnesses conventioneersexcept that I forget they’re in townon Friday mornings in summerand I never bring along enough coffeefor the ensuing extra half hourin aggressive traffic--Don’t get me wrong,I have nothing against classical music,but on Friday morningsI’d rather sip coffee with the birdsthan classical musicpumped through my office wallat a fairly aggressive volumefor classical music and Friday morning--Don’t get me wrong,mostly I appreciatedthat right-outta-college jobplaying Girl Friday for a lawyerwho played classical music all day,especially glad for the experienceof riding the bus in aggressive headphones,feminist tomes for a budding heart--Don’t get me wrong,I have few regrets in this lifeand everything’s a learning experience,but I think I’d take back the daysof aggressive male gaze in the workplace,burial masked as wardrobe scrutiny,especially on dress-down Fridays when I’d ratherthrow my coffee than sip--Sipping my Friday morning coffeereflecting on how buried moments show upunexpectedly, requiring aggressiveattention even when the urge to mask themis stronger than my French roast and my name--I choose to experience pain, feel what comes,including a full busload of shame.And yes, regret. Don’t get me wrong.
For Corey’s prompt to the Real Toads: Friday Night Raw