I May Be Your Desire But I am Not Your Object.

Yesterday I was out on Pearl Street.

Yes. I was wearing a lower-cut shirt.

Yes. I was even wearing a skirt.

And okay, I was bending over to tape one of my After Party posters on a pole.

But I don't think it's okay for some random old man to take my picture. Which he did.

Then he proceeded to go around to the other side of the pole to take a picture from another angle, cuz I cause the cleavage shot wasn't enough for him. Of course, I stood up and hide behind the pole so he couldn't do it.

But I should not have had to do that at all!

I don't think I'd even be comfortable with a close friend taking that picture. Though if it was a close friend, they wouldn't. Because they wouldn't need to and they'd know it would make me uncomfortable. (I would hope anyway.)

Plus. Isn't it just weird?

Why did that guy think he could do that? I mean, it's obvious if he had asked I would have said no. But if he knew the answer would be no, then, well, maybe he should have known not to do it at all.

A-hole.

I am not some masturbatory object to add to your fetish image collection of young women putting up posters (or whatever you're into.)

Ugh.