Guess we'll perish

I knew she was 90 because she had been telling everyone who would listen that she’d just turned 90 and commenting on what everyone was wearing and whether she liked it or not. Just generally zero filter

Anyway, my stylist finished putting some more texture into my faux hawk and I was very aware of this woman watching me in the mirror, frowning like she wasn’t sure if she approved. But when it was time for me to stand up and leave she reached out a paper-thin hand to me and said, “I have to tell you, you have perfect eyebrows for that haircut. Your whole face just—“ and she made an expressive gesture with her hands, the bangles on her arms jangling like a wind chime. “You look so much better than when you came in.”

Which. Lol. Thank you? I guess?

Yeah I should’ve clarified (pun intended). They had glass in the ancient world especially in Rome and Egypt but it was basically super heated sand and color additives put in a mold and often looked opaque and kinda lumpy. Even if it was blown like it was in some regions it wouldn’t have looked like modern glass.

Clear blown glass like you’d see a modern scented candle contained in wasn’t invented until the late Middle Ages and certainly wasn’t mass produced until the 1500s and even then places like Venice that had knowledge of these techniques literally forbid their glassmakers from leaving their city or region so other people couldn’t make it, forcing artificial scarcity and making it a very expensive material.

"The hat is customizable," he said, struggling with the velcro patch on the front. "If I need it, I have an ICE one too. I pick based off the business i walk into."

"Customizable is an important hat descriptor," I said. "what can I get you?"

"You wouldn't believe how offended people get these days," he said. "And I'm supposed to do something about it if you're offended? You chose to be offended!"

"We all have hundreds of thousands of decisions everyday," I said. I thickened my accent. "That's what my stepdad always said. But I can make one easier - we have a delicious Ethiopian roast available."

"Like if I told you you have a bull ring," he said, "because bulls have rings in their noses. Is that offensive?"

I laughed. "I've heard that before."

"It's a joke, but people get offended. Maybe you're offended."

I looked at him. I smiled. "You aren't trying to offend me though, right?"

Of course he was. I was being friendly and the friendlier I was, the faster he switched topics. He was saying anything inflammatory he could think of to see if I'd take the bait. After about 20 minutes of my redirecting and deescalating, he settled into a more normal interaction. He took up too much of my time showing me a product I'd feigned mild interest in to get him to stop talking about getting accused of inappropriate behavior at work. When we finally disengaged, he spent 10 minutes trying to catch my eye again. When he failed, he left.

There's this new breed of customer who insists on trying to incite political conversation through their clothing and, when that doesnt work, their snide little comments. If I owned my own business, maybe I would have given the guy the fight he wanted. But I work for a corporation and I love paying my bills so I deescalated.

This kind of response to things I say about sex work, which isn't always phrased like this but almost always focuses on me being male or a man or my pronouns, shows a fundamental misunderstanding of why mansplaining is bad.

I am a sex worker. I have been for a decade. The majority of people I know are sex workers and I'm embedded in sex worker community. I started before 18 and have done it in brothels, cars, my own home, clients' homes, saunas, and hotels.

so it all works up to the empathy boss - a bush era edgelord millenial trans girl who thinks she's Max from Sam & Max and is inherently unworthy of love

Next up someone is going to claim that the Narnia series isn't kids books.