Written on the train 7 train in Madrid, Spain.
To the man on the escalator that called me guapa,
I’m sorry I have built up walls so high;
Put on shades so dark…
That I no longer understand how to take a compliment.
As women we are so often sought como una cosa;
We have unlearned the courtesy of responding to a compliment.
Sir on the escalator,
I want to say sorry.
For simply dismissing you with gracias, and going back about my business.
You must understand… you have to blame the old man on the train
That sat across from me, the one sitting next to me now.
The men who stopped their conversations, stopped walking, and stared.
The men I avoided in the cervecería, (I’m still hungry).
I do not know how to not ignore men anymore without a little liquid courage
Call it the language barrier,
Call it uninterested,
I can label it anything I want, but a label doesn’t change the definition.
A synonym is just a different word that has the same meaning,
Because we are looking to prove a point.
I’m sorry for the look of disgust on my face & the rolled eyes.
But when men you’ve never met stare at you like a lost lover
You tend to put on your headphones, and pretend you are walking
In your own little untouchable bubble; that you are invisible.
So, to the man on the escalator that day,
I didn’t realize you could see me.
Gracias: thank you
Como una cosa: as/like a thing
Un objecto: An object
Cervecería: a local café serving beer, coffee, and sandwiches
Three women going through life.