Don't touch!

Tension tightens in my body as I spin around, glaring down at the offender. Blonde and overconfident he probably got laid a few times in high school. I suspect he will spend many years and substances trying to recapture that climax. My open palm swiftly collides with his cheek, not hard enough. I feel my grip on his neck intensify “Don’t fucking touch me”. He’s young, drunk, arrogant, and disrespectful. Defensive and embarrassed I know he will start trashing me within minutes. I am correct. I hear him utter “what the hell would I want with that bitch?” as random protectors appear to discipline the stupid kid. Although they will apologize for him and offer to incapacitate him, it makes no difference. The damage is done. He violated my boundaries. I don’t want to see him; I want to implant my stiletto in his forehead.

The bar is full of grabby drunks tonight. From Dumbass trying to bite my ass, to the Chinese grandpa wanting to spank me, I have no tolerance. I watch cautiously as a miner stares at my breasts. He looks about fifty, balding and overweight I see the evidence of decades of alcohol. Intoxicated his expression has become youthful, too youthful. My body gyrates before him as his mouth opens. Regressing to incompetence he reminds me of an infant waiting to nurse. Mouth gaping, mesmerized, he hopes. I don’t have the patience to be nice. I don’t want to smile. I don’t want to dance. My defenses are heightened tonight.

Don’t fucking touch me.