tabbadabbadoo

here’s the deal, i go out dancing quite a bit.  mostly i go to queer dance parties, because i’m queer.  this is one of my favorite things i do with my life.  i can reach actual transcendence almost any time i dance. 

you probably don’t know this, but i really need that right now.  what with the moving and the people dying and the fbi raiding my friends’ houses, i’ve been a bit stressed out.  so, i go out to have a good time.  i don’t go out to be harassed or skeezed on, especially by men.  i expect men in queer spaces to be thoughtful of how they approach queers in miniskirts in queer spaces.  i expect people of all genders to really, but especially men. 

when i am being skeezed on here’s my process: 1) consider i’m misreading a situation and dance on some other part of the floor.  2) repeat.  3) repeat.  4)  check in with my friend.  “that guy is creeping me out,” i’ll say.  “the creep who’s been less than a foot away from you staring? yeah, he’s a creeper.” my friend will reply.  5) “i don’t want you to dance next to me.  please go anywhere else.”  i’ll say to the creeper.  6) he’ll act like he has no idea what i’m talking about. 7) i’ll leave the dance floor and get a drink of water, go outside for fresh air, and go to the bathroom. 8) i’ll return and he’ll be right by me again.  9) i’ll tell some random dude that i’m uncomfortable, and could he please get in between us.  10) creeper will act like i’m crazy.  11) random dude will be confused and give the creeper the benefit of the doubt. 

why don’t i get the benefit of the doubt?  do you see how many steps i go through?  this shit makes me feel crazy and then leave.  dudes pushing me out of queer spaces, fuck a bunch of that.