I shoved the gorgeous woman away. "Don't you know slut shaming is bad?" I scolded, because, unlike the other girls, I was a feminist.
"If you do not wish to be referred to as a slut, do not conduct yourself as one," she scoffed before walking right past me and continuing on her way.
I decided that I hated that bitch because she was a filthy whore just like the other girls. I walked to my favorite cafe where I liked to get cozy for a study sesh, but it was closed because it was a Sunday. How typical of my clumsy, quirky, forgetful self to not know.
Instead, I walked along the streets, left to my plethora of intellectual thoughts. Aside from being one of the boys, there were so many other things that set me apart from the other girls, like my short figure, small hands, NATURALLY long lashes and thick lips, and my health conditions (I have depression, anxiety, diarrhea, diabetes, borderline personality disorder, bipolar 1 and 2, down syndrome, chronic constipation, ADHD, autism, 5 eating disorders, erectile dysfunction, and tourettes, all of which are self-diagnosed because I am a mess student.)
But, as I walked, I thought about her. Even though that woman that I had met was totally like all the other girls, she was irresistibly beautiful.
