Prey
Monday, July 14th, 20088AM. Last week I spent all but Monday on my ass. This inclination towards idle leisure paired with a rainy start this morning made my awakening somewhat of a struggle. After a brief period of consciously staring at the backs of my eyelids, I finally wrenched myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
There’s nothing like a shower to wake me up… or put me back to sleep. The temperature of the water ultimately determines my alertness, so after bathing in lukewarm water, I found myself wide awake, although agitated. I prefer my showers to be as hot as I can take it, even with the promise of the languid heat of summer. With the rain and all, the heat did not turn out to be such a big problem.
Of course, the hair on my head is seldom inclined to agree. I had braided my hair up and twisted it into Bantu knots after applying gel the day before in order to get that crinkly, wavy appearance in my hair to wear out today. The humidity quickly dismantled my plans, and I was left with a voluminous, puffy ponytail. Eh, who was I trying to impress anyway? By 9:12AM, I was finally out of the house.
I really hate construction sites, especially when they become intrusive in a public environment, which is pretty much all the time. Squeezing past the fenced in street on what was left of the sidewalk adjacent to the site, I splashed a man with the rain drops from my umbrella as wild vegetation brushed it and sprang my skyward shield forward. He didn’t seem to mind and kept moving.
I continued down the street, and perhaps my hair plans hadn’t all gone to hell as a raggedy man in red decided to hit on me. Not interested in the least, I passed him by as he repeatedly asked me “Are you all right?” or “You need a ride?” even as I did not bother to make eye contact with him. Is it so difficult to tell when people are ignoring you? My scowl clearly should have given it away. I quickened my pace until he was finally out of range, passing the track and baseball fields and the parking lot well ahead of schedule. Nothing like a mangy old man for motivation.
Sometimes the very sight of a man makes me cringe, if not physically, mentally. After years of being reminded of the so-called central aspiration of the male species (sex), and by both parents, mind you, I seem to have developed a mentality not unlike that of meek prey sensing its predator just on the horizon. The media certainly hasn’t helped with its depictions of men, especially those of color.
Try as I might, I can rarely fully shake what has become something of an instinct, but more accurately, my prejudice, towards men. It’s this very mentality that has led me out of one relationship after another; until I finally decided that I could fully trust myself, and in turn, someone else; until I found love. It hasn’t done much for that mental condition I’ve been telling you about, though. Pity.