small men
I parked in the REI parking lot, and walked toward the faux-chalet entrance mulling the pros and cons of water tablets versus water filtration for my next long backpacking trip.
Ahead of me, a very tall, very big, older white man walked toward the store, decked out in shiny, new hiking wear and the aviator sunglasses beloved by men of a certain age. He was imposing; I’m pretty sure he knew that.
He opened the door, and held it open for me. But I was putting my phone away in my pocket, so I said, “That’s okay – you first.”
He looked down at me and said, “After you.”
I stopped, squinted a bit and said, “No thanks, go ahead.”
He paused, almost smiling in that near-sneer some men do, looking down at me through those mirrored aviators, and said calmly, “After you.” He had not moved a muscle.
I got that angry chill up my spine and neck. I looked him full in the face and said, “No thank you.”
He did the doorman arm gesture of slowing ushering me inside, and pronounced, “After – you.”
“No – thank – you.”
We stood, in the entryway of REI, locked toe to toe and eye to eye. Well, eye to mirrored aviators. Neither of us had raised our voices. Neither of us had taken a step. But he just could not stop. He actually said it again.
“After you.” It felt menacing. It sounded icy cold. It reeked of control and power.
So I took a deep breath, cocked my head, and said, “I can stand here all day, friend.” The smile twitched in the corner of his mouth, but then an REI employee approached. The big man turned and went inside. As I opened the door, the employee was saying to him, “Standoff in the doorway, huh?” and glanced at me with surprised eyes. Not exactly nervous eyes. Or worried. Or even concerned. Possibly, just possibly…slightly embarrassed. But you can never quite tell. It’s hard to read someone’s eyes.
Especially behind mirrors.
Such chivalry afforded to the weaker sex today. Heartwarming.
Here’s a tip, for all the confused authoritarian patriarchs out there wondering what’s gotten into the little women lately: we see you. You’re a sham. Smoke and mirrors. Fakes. Frauds. Your spinelessness shows in your bullying of people smaller, poorer, less empowered in the world you strut through.
We are the authorities on our own existence. We decide about ourselves – about our bodies, about our rights, about our options.
About which doors we will go through, and which doors we will not. We have the power to open our own doors, for ourselves, like other men you do not hold doors for, gritting your teeth to say, “after you” to them. We are your equals. And our eyes are wide open to how we have to stand up for that fact. In the most ridiculous places, in the most tedious ways.
Chivalry can die; the King is dead. Long live actual Equality instead.