“Smile for me pretty girl!”

That is the fourth time today someone has told me to smile.

I don’t understand.

Why would I smile when there is nothing to smile about?

Why would I smile if you haven’t said anything particularly funny, or clever?

Why would I smile at you?

“Daaannmm!!

“Where’s my hug at honey?”

“I can show you a good time.”

“Can I get your digits?”

“You got a nice rack girl.”

I have only been here for about five hours and I’ve been whistled at like a dog, told to smile, asked to hug a stranger, scrutinized, I’ve even been sniffed.

I thought I was the one who should be curious, after all. I’ve never seen a man before.

Instead I seem to be the curiosity.

I am the one being poked and prodded like an anomaly.

Like I’m a mystical beast.

Unknown to men.

I’ve had enough.

I’d like to go home now.