“Saw me lookin’, huh?”
“You’ve got good taste, Bolan.”

I grab my drink and start back to my table.

“Nice ass.” He wasn’t even quiet about it.

My gait slows slightly but I keep moving.

Eating my lunch, I glance occasionally at the man who felt it necessary to comment on my anatomy in the middle of the lunch rush at a popular restaurant.

Not so long ago I would have stopped at his table, explaining to him and his two companions how demeaning it is to reduce women to body parts, how men like him only reinforce stereotypes which we fight so hard to eradicate, etcetera, etcetera.

But I don’t do that anymore. My impromptu rants never changed anyone’s ideas and were more amusing to them than anything else, I imagine.

No, today I walk towards the door, past the table of three men in suits and wink, subtly, at the one who’d chosen to voice his appreciation of my butt.

It caught him completely off guard, and I left smiling, thinking to myself “take that, you not-so-nice Ass.”

......

Satisfaction.