We women shorten our mini-skirts, cut back on the make-up, and hide the short-lived cleavage (watch it die after the babies come). All this because society calls the sexy woman all sorts of mean and hurtful names. There’s even a bill to torture us further for it. Not me, bambi. No way, no how. I came into my sexiness at the grand old age of 28, and I suspect I only have about five years with it, so you can be sure I shall go all out whenever I get the chance.
This warm day, I was embarking onto a taxi in my very sexy golden top, and jeans that my friends say makes my behind look absolutely fantastic. The eyeshadow was lathered on, the foundation was flawless and the lipstick was a smoldering red.
Seriously. I was so hot that the sun bowed down and finger snapped, ‘’You go, Girl!’’
I entered and a local taxi tout who took it upon himself to cup a feel of one of the cheeks of my nice looking behind.
‘’My size...’’, he had started to say before I, whirling around and slapping his hand away, snapped at him.
‘’Chi chi?’’ he leered.
‘’Stupid!’’ Stupid!” I repeated helpfully.
‘’Ah, Genda!’’ he sneered.
‘’Stupid!’’ I snarled.
I was starting to lack in imagination. I decided it was time to take things a notch higher. I stepped closer to him and pushed him hard with both my hands. The shock of it almost sent him falling to the ground.
‘’Gwe, what’s your problem?’’ he demanded. It seemed he didn’t like me touching him. Odd!
I kept pushing at him, and repeating, ‘’Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’’
His friends were now giving him a wide berth. Women had collected round, jeering and egging me on. He had become a laughing stock. He kept running and I pushed, repeating my mantra. ‘’Stupid!’’ Eventually, he fled into the market. Satisfied that I had made my point, I entered my taxi. The driver, an old man in his fifties, was laughing uproariously.
‘’Anti, some of these men think they can touch touch all young girls. More young women should be like you!’’
It’s the principle of the thing, I say. No woman should suffer for being sexy.