Aubergine Misognyny.

The guy on the phone yesterday (some scam. they've latched onto one of my volunteers, who is only 18, and usually a very sensible lad but gave them his full name, too polite for his own good, etc.) called me a "fucking whore bitch tramp".

It's been a long time since anyone has done anything like that.

Insults have been snide and sidelong, but I don't think I've been called 'whore' or 'tramp' for a long time. At the protests, sure, insults were vicious and frequent - but rarely unexpected.

A car full of army guys in Hometown once yelled out abuse like that at me, as I was getting out of "The Monster" (what a car!) at 318 Stanley St, when it was a wobbly old Queenslander and not a block of flats. I was with Joakim. I still remember my face burning and my stumbling apology (cultural cringe?) to my lover, see .... he is not from here, see, he is from OVERSEAS, you know, from a civilised country... where they don't yell at random women from cars ... perhaps that is what I was thinking... what I remember feeling is ~ ashamed.

Likewise yesterday, on the telephone, hung up. In an empty room, I looked out of the windows and then made myself a cup of tea, and I felt so very ashamed. The insults ringing in my ears, I went to the bathroom and washed my face.
Did you know that after ringing in your ears a few times "fucking whore bitch tramp" can sound a bit like "fucking aubergine".