Dear Hipster Girl who was confused by my gender in a bar bathroom

Let's have a chat, shall we?

When you followed me into the restroom at an unnamed bar in a medium-sized city chock-full of hipsters who are supposed to be, you know, hip and such, I wasn't expecting the thing that came out of your mouth. I am used to hipster girls. I date them, I am friends with them, I work with them. I expect them to do their usual hipster girl thing, which is to be worldly and cool and not at all impacted by difference. You are probably supposed to embrace difference.

This is why I did not expect the following stupid thing to come out of your mouth when the door closed:

"Is this the women's bathroom?"

I also did not expect you to say the other stupid thing that you said when I closed the stall door:

"Oh, like that's never happened to you before!"

Ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha! Also: true! It has happened to me before. Not enough to have made me so wary of public restrooms that I would avoid them, but enough.

When I left the restroom and related your verbal numbnuttery to Punk Rock Femme, she got kind of surly. She wanted to have a Teaching Moment (tm) with you. I'm not sure what that would have entailed, but judging by the look on her face, it probably wouldn't have been very pleasant. I'm guessing that the Teaching Moment (tm) might have resulted in The Cops Coming (tm).

Just so you know, Hipster Girl, your restroom weirdness made me uncomfortable in a space where I was just fine before. It made me expect a fun, random piece of homophobic violence from the dudes in the bar. It made me question why the fuck you weren't able to use contextual clues to determine which restroom you were in, instead of blurting out some uncultured, cracked up bullshit like you had Gender Tourette Syndrome.

It also made me want to punch you into next week, Hipster Girl. Good thing for you that I was sober, huh?

xoxo,
10xfast