Silly girls and stupid boys.

Walking down the street holding my partners hand.

I smile.

A small-penis-truck roars by.

Its riders yell "dyke".

Like its a bad thing.

We smile even broader.

Joking about how we were supposed to be insulted.

Insulted to be dykes? Or insulted to be women?

At the bike shop we talk bikes with a worker.

Silly girls. Like we know anything about bikes.

(We really do, but he implies we don't.)

I ask questions and look things over.

All the while I can see him not looking at my words.

He's intently listening to my breasts.

If he really knew the story behind those breasts he'd listen to me then.

Or maybe not.

Perhaps he's call me a freak and run me out of his shop.

Or he'd think me an odd prize and chase me into his bed.

And then promptly out of it again afterwards.

After he had his "weirdest hookup" story for his buds.

But doesn't it make him kinda gay if its his ass something gets stuck up?

Layers of contradictions found within all the hatred and ignorance.

Stupid boys.