As I stood outside a show at last weekend's Underground Music Showcase, immersed in a nice conversation with my friend and former bandmate, we were the victims of a walk-by insult. But not the regular old street harassment kind of thing -- no this was hollering of a different kind.
You see, my friend and former bandmate is a man (emphasis here on him being a biological man and me being a biological woman). The perp was a (male) promoter we have had the unfortunate displeasure of working with in the past. Even though I have had to book shows and talk money with this gentleman, he still forgets my name, refers to me as someone's girlfriend or ignores me altogether in social settings. In this particular situation, he walked up to address, gave my friend a "What's up, dude!" greeting, looked at me and then looked back at my friend and said something along the lines of "Didn't mean to interrupt you talking to a pretty girl!"
See also: On eight years of sobriety -- the wonderful and terrifying reality of an alcohol-free life