(It is a busy Saturday night. During the dinner rush, I have been dealing with a table of two 20-something year old men. The blonde one has found something to complain about every time I’ve walked by while the brown-haired one just blushes and stays quiet. They’ve finished their meal.)
Blonde Man: “Are you new here?”
Me: “No, sir. I’ve been a waitress here for two years and three years at [other restaurant] prior.”
Blonde Man: “Then you have no excuse for how terrible this service was. The salad was wilty, and the entree was way too cold, and you were nowhere to be found. Plus, this place is far too noisy; I could barely hear myself speak! Honestly, I get better service at a fast food place.”
Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. While there isn’t much I can do about the noise, I did offer to bring you different food before, but you said no.”
Blonde Man: *waves me off* “Just bring me the check, and try not to be so slow about it for once.”
(I go and get the check, but when I return, the brown-haired man stands up and hands me a $20 bill.)
Brown-haired Man: “Here, this is your tip. He wasn’t going to give you one. As a former waiter myself, I thought you were doing a perfectly fine job. My food was great, and the service was fast even though you’re so busy right now.”
(He turns to his blonde companion.)
Brown-haired Man: “People like you made my job so much worse, especially for making us work that much harder for no tip. So thanks for the meal, but you can go ahead and delete my number because there will be no second date. And by the way,potjevleesch is supposed to be served cold, you idiot.”
(With that, he left the restaurant without his date. It made the whole night worth it, to see that blonde man speechless for once.)
This isn’t their problem, guys. It’s ours. We have to solve it.
Sexual harassment isn’t an occupational hazard. It’s not a glitch in the complex matrix of modern life. It’s not something that just “happens.” It’s something men do. It’s a choice men make. It’s a problem men enable. It’s sometimes a crime men commit. And it is not in the power nor the responsibility of women to wage war on this crime.
It’s on us.
How do we fight this war? We stop enabling. We check ourselves and, when necessary, wreck ourselves. Do you know a guy who’s hate-following women on Twitter just to troll them? You check him. Do you know a guy who’s writing disgusting screeds to women journalists because they don’t like the same things he likes? You check him. Do you know a professional whose discourse with women in his field is loaded with gender-specific language and condescension that could enable further abuse? You check him. Are your Twitter followers identifying you as a sympathetic ear for their sexist views? You check yourself. Is your website’s message board a cesspool of ignorance and hate? You check it like you actually give a damn. Do you know a guy who’s sending rape threats to women for any reason? Oh, you report that guy.
Let me make it plain:
A woman objecting to the content of a comic book — even if you think she’s dead wrong — does not rise to the occasion of vicious name calling and rape threats.
Nothing does. Andy Khouri writes at Comics Alliance. Read the whole thing - the motif is Fake Geek Guys, noting that the superhero fans who act in such an abusive, unethical way are 100% against the genre they claim to love - but I pull this part out of context. (via kierongillen)
The thing is, representation matters, and one of the worst things that this kind of narrative does is that it expects an LGBTQ audience to be satisfied with the bare minimum. When this bare minimum is not met with automatic praise and thanks, the audience is punished in any number of ways, from a producer’s social media snarkery to claims by the mainstream media that the darned homosexuals just aren’t grateful enough. Even the smallest amount of negative reaction is cited as reason enough to not bother with such a storyline in the future.
It’s sort of like showing up to Thanksgiving having said you’d bring green bean casserole, except you brought a single green bean on a paper plate. Even though this will obviously not feed any of the other guests and barely counts as a green bean casserole, you sneer at those who are protesting, telling them that they never specified what a green bean casserole is and besides that, they’re being whiny babies. You wave the single limp green bean in the air and tell them that it’s obvious they’ll never be happy, that they’re complaining for the sake of complaining and it’s no wonder they don’t get to eat quality green bean casserole, because nobody wants to share green bean casserole with such an aggressive and unfriendly group. In other words, making a character gay only to immediately write them out of the show makes me feel like shoving a green bean up someone’s nose.
excerpt from the piece i’m writing for autostraddle on why i’ve stopped recapping once upon a time, because they pulled some bullshit (via trashydyke)
This very eloquently explains why I stopped watching Once Upon A Time, and why I stop watching so many other shows/reading comics or books/etc. It’s disheartening, and it wears on you. It hurt me to my core that a show about true love was only for straight people.
And it makes me so angry when people come to me and they say WELL THIS ONE CHARACTER IS GAY SO WHY DID YOU STOP WATCHING IT. Because it’s not enough. Because it’s not fucking enough, and it never is, and it never will be.
A throwaway gay character isn’t enough. Sam Wilson and James Rhodes aren’t enough. Black Widow and Maria hill aren’t enough, and Scarlett Witch won’t fucking be enough. And I am SICK of people acting offended because I refuse to be satisfied with the barest minimum of representation. I am sick of one green bean, while everyone else gets to eat a casserole.
Everyone who reblogs this before August 1 will have their URL written in a birthday card I’m sending to Richard Armitage.
No matter how many notes this gets, I promise every single person who reblogs will be in that card. I want to show him how many Tumblr fans he has and how much we appreciate him.