Dear Drunk Englishmen

Dear “Blech” and his stag party comrades,

On Friday, I was enjoying a quiet afternoon at my place of employment when your party entered the establishment. To summarize the experience, I found you to be obscene and base in your behavior.

Since this was not my first experience with an English stag party, I was perpared for the usual behaviors. Namely, lots of rounds of drinks, shouting and singing at an ear splitting volume, and unwelcomed advances. However, your party took the goal of behaving badly to a new level.

I did my best to be a gracious hostess throughout. I sidestepped your repeated requests for Karaoke. I smiled and laughed off your drunken compliments. I ignored you when you flashed your ass and disceretly turned away when the groom’s friends exposed his genitals.

Admitedly, a few of the group deserve a nod for trying to reign in the overall reproachable conduct of the party. It was very considerate of the groom’s cousin, and I believe, uncle to make the man who shit on the floor come back and pick up his own feces. It was also a nice gesture of the red haired gentleman to offer to mop up the groom’s vomit, though it lacked follow through. There is one man in particular whose behavior I would like to single out.

This person started out the afternoon commenting on the fantastic nature of my breasts. I agree, they are fantastic and my husband finds them equally so. I let the observation go and continued on with serving drinks for the group. Later, the same man expressed his wish to ejaculate on my breasts. Since your party was leaving, I simply wished him a safe day. I could see he was drunk and had the intentions of continuing to drink. However, it was his final comment which has inspiried this letter and incited my justified anger.

“Hey Jess, can I fuck you in the ass?”

Upon reflection of this entire scenario my only conculsion is that this person was seeking to establish some sort of power structure through his behavior. He wanted to set himself up as a dominate strong man and place me as a subjugated weak women undreneath him. He attempted this through increasingly suggestive and violent language. Each time I refused to respond, it required him to increase the bullying behavior until he finally recieved my angry response when I told him he had to leave.

Here is the truth of the matter though, this bastard has no authority over me and I refuse to give him any power to affect my identity. I know who I am. I am a strong, beautiful women created with purpose by a loving God. Since I am shielded by this knowledge and my savior’s abounding grace, this person’s actions are turned against him. Rather than defining my character, his verbal assult and sexual harrassment have exposed his character. It has proved lacking.

As much as my anger tempts me to respond by assualting this person (for a few hours I admittedly wished I had simply sauntered up to him and responded with my knee to his groin) I realize it would be ineffectual. It would be like prescribing asprin for the headaches of a brain cancer patient. In the moment it may be relieving but doesn’t deal with the acutal problem. This primative-small-penis conduct is only a symptom of a larger cultural issue. It is the lack of respect for another’s body, agency, and value (as well as his own) which is evidenced by his behavior. As a culture, how are we attacking this cancer?

In closing, I would like to say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I can’t. If you or any of your party come back to my establishment, myself or any of my coworkers will be happy to escort you out. We don’t need to subjugate ourselves to the dreadful experience of your company.

Sincerly,

Jess