I heard something that shocked, repulsed and humiliated me as a woman the other day. I was on the bus – I seem to spend most of my life on buses, so it seems, just idly tuning into peoples’ conversations here and there, as you do.
My attention was drawn to a trio of people towards the front of the bus, on the top deck. I was sat at an angle across the aisle so I was able to observe – discreetly – and listen – horrified.
It was two lads and a girl, the latter being constantly groped by one of the lads who I assume was her boyfriend.
“Oh yeah, had this one ‘nuff times, three-‘oled yer h’ant I love?”
The girl muttered something and wriggled uncomfortably, plainly unhappy with having such intimate details revealed about their personal life… I realised what the boy meant and was absolutely flabbergasted at the sheer vulgarity of the phrase and the casual way in which he spoke about it to his friend, who did not appear discomforted by these revelations, but rather, keen to hear more, obviously enjoying his own little mental scenario.
The girl remained stony- faced. I felt sorry for her. And this is not a feminist rant – far from it. But – where IS the love?
Call me old – fashioned, but I was under the impression that such an intimate act between two people, if not an expression of love, more a release of pure physicality, should still be treated with respect. I felt humiliated that the girl didn’t tell the lad to shut the Hell up and shocked that this act of “three-holing” was such an achievement for the boy that he felt he had to brag about it.
Perhaps the definition of “love” has changed for the 21st century. I don’t know.
All I’m saying is that it doesn’t take much to show a little kindness, spread a little real love. “Be the change you want to see in the world…” to paraphrase Gandhi…
Strike a little match of love yourself and let it burn… become a beacon… and listen to the words of this song by the brilliant Black Eyed Peas.