Monday, December 03, 2007

The Bar, Revisited

Darlings, Pretty Lady has seen the light; she has finally understood the reason for those silly little label things at the bottom of Desert Cat's posts. It was borne in upon her that, even if a person is cursed with near-total recall of every conversation she has had in this lifetime, ultimately she forgets in what month this conversation occurred. And the archiving function on her new template, not to put too fine a point on it, is dreadful.

So Pretty Lady was up till the wee hours on Saturday, doing that thing ex-librarians do best.

While engaged in this desultory Cataloguing of History, Pretty Lady's mind, naturally, wandered. It occurred to her that at times in every lady's life, she has got to do what she has got to do, whether it is wise or not. Specifically, there comes a time when a lady has simply got to wander alone into a bar, order a double bourbon or ten, and challenge a stranger to a game of pool.

Why has she got to do this? One may ask. One may not receive an answer. The mysteries of the wayward heart are singular and confidential. Pretty Lady does not concern herself with Motive; she merely concerns herself with Tactics.

For it is widely understood that for a single lady, a bar with a pool table in the middle of Brooklyn is the rough equivalent of a jungle in Deepest Darkest Africa, as regards the potential for loss of life and limb. Much bemoaning of this fact has been done, in progressive circles; however, the fact remains. And it seems to Pretty Lady that the focus of this bemoaning is All Wrong, from a tactical point of view.

The most outspoken of the Progressives, you see, have a tendency to preach to the persons least likely to listen; to wit, they preach to the Creeps. Moreover, they behave as though there were more Creeps out there than not--even that the vast majority of a single gender were possessed of Creeplike characteristics. It seems to Pretty Lady that the point of bifurcation, in these people's minds, boils down to Creeps, and Women.

Whereas Pretty Lady notes that a much more practical division is between Creeps, and Decent People.

A Creep, you see, is an individual who gloms on to a diminutive, intoxicated, pool-playing lady late at night and attempts to back her into a corner, or an alleyway, or his apartment. A Decent Person is the one who stands nearby, casually making sure the Creep's agenda is frustrated.

Do you see? This Decent Person is not a predator; he is not a chauvinist; he merely perceives that the pool-playing lady needs to let off a little steam, more than she needs to keep her guard up. He does not judge her for this. He does not question her ability to take care of herself. He merely hangs around, assuring himself that everything is okay.

It is a very great pity that some potential Decent People are cowed, by idealistic notions of Progressiveness, into the idea that looking out for one's fellow citizens is an offensive thing.

For as Pretty Lady has stated in the past, it is not that ladies in bars are incapable of handing a Creep's nether regions to him on a silver platter; it is that if the lady has friends around, she shouldn't have to. It is Pretty Lady's firm opinion that peace and safety are best maintained by invoking the minimum of fuss; plus, allowing a Creep to save face in a small way may prevent that selfsame Creep from coming back with a switchblade. It is always best to look at the bigger picture, before indulging in petty victories.

5 comments:

Desert Cat said...

Er...ur...
...it took me a few moments to discern which "silly little label things" you were referring to.

I use them mostly for my own recall purposes, especially the resources category, which I have stated before is almost exclusively links to stuff I don't want to lose. The results may also end up being interesting to some of my readers as well.

prettylady said...

Indeed, I am now using them for precisely the same purposes. I would hate to bore anybody, least of all myself, by repeating myself.

Magpie Girl said...

After spending far to much time poking around reading posts, it is now official:

I am in love with Pretty Lady and will here by pledge my alligance to the regular reading of her blog.

I can't remember a time on the blogosphere where I have laughed more or recieved a better dose sauciness.

Thankfully, Pretty Lady and I have equally nebulous and wide open ideas about the Divine (or what have you,) so we will have lots and lots of time to get to know each other in hell. (Woo Hoo!)

Thanks for the perspective! Write on!

-Magpie Girl

Desert Cat said...

Hi Magpie Girl and welcome to the party. Pretty Lady and I have somewhat different ideas about the Divine, and still I love her as much.

k said...

Yes, welcome, Magpie Girl! On certain issues, I tend to agree more with Pretty Lady than my blogdad Desert Cat does. In fact, my Pops and I are sometimes pretty far apart. But then, he's never ever held any of that against me. Or I him, for that matter.

It seems we are a genetically linked ether family. (This being the blogosphere, we can say that if we want to. Logic need not trouble us overmuch.)

We sometimes hiss a bit or smack each other on the nose with a paw...but always, with our claws sheathed.

To me, it does not seem possible to read Pretty Lady and not love her. She entertains, provokes serious thought and interesting dissent and discussion, sends our art-senses soaring giddily into the stratosphere, makes us cry, makes us giggle, makes us stomp around a bit...

Yeah. What's not to love?

YUM!