There was one day, though, when I dropped the scowl and chose another tactic.
A scorching summer afternoon, I had popped into a corner shop to buy some water.
As I waited to cross the road, two men in a van started to shout out remarks about my body.
I tried to ignore it, but then something inside me snapped.
I removed the lid of my water bottle and squeezed the entire ice-cold contents in their faces.
The comments certainly stopped, and I felt a whole lot better.
Castrata Espanol is a better term than Macho.
No comments:
Post a Comment