December 18, 2012

Poppy Shame

I was driving back home. At a busy junction where I usually turn left to my colony, I was stopped by a scooter standing in my way. The man next to it signaled me to wait. I acknowledged his request and upon realizing that a favorite was playing on the radio, increased the volume. Suddenly I got embarrassed - I had caught my self singing too loudly and there were lots of people around. I'm sure most of them were not even looking but it made me uneasy. Slightly. I reduced the volume and decided I had been waiting for longer than expected. I looked up to honk at the man with the scooter. He stood there with his helmet on, opened his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, zipped down, tucked his shirt in and repeated the steps backwards. He signaled me (again!) to wait, casually turned around, sat on his scooter and rode away.

The shock of what I had just seen in broad daylight slowly turned into an ironic smile. I remembered a remark a friend had once made - unlike men, women are socialized to feel shame. I laughed to myself, shook my head and decided to move on. I put the car in gear, pressed the clutch and before I could accelerate, an obnoxious black skoda with blaring music shamelessly zipped pass me.

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