“I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.”
At that same university, some years later while taking a playwriting class, a fellow student asks me for a ride home. I oblige. He asks me to come up to see his apartment. Why not? I oblige.
I see toys on the floor. He’s obviously married as he begins – for the first time – to speak of his wife, a woman he finds boring and of little value.
He asks me if I want to sleep with him.
I politely leave after I tell him, “No, not really.”
Misogyny is rampant. The devaluing of women – of wife and mother – of fellow student, of any woman who may satisfy the desires of a bored man.