Guys, though my frail human form has been hobbled by an illness I fondly refer to as Head Cold: The Reckoning, it was a mere week ago I found myself in a Body Pump class. Body Pump is an awesome weightlifting class designed by human muscle Les Mills where people scream out things like “Plyometrics!” and “JUST EIGHT MORE!!!!”. It’s way fun all on its own, but on this particular Saturday class, one of my fellow pumpers brought in something a little extra whimsical: rape culture.
My fun friend brought society’s ice cream cake to the aerobic party in a simple way. His t-shirt, well worn, clearly much beloved, read, “I Traded My Girlfriend for a Coors Light. It Was The Best Deal I Ever Made.” Whoop! What’s great about that shirt, aside from how sweet a worn in tee looks on anyone, is that it reminded me, as well as all the other women in the class, and in the gym, and all the other places where I hope this guy shares his hilarity and indelible taste for puns, that we ladies are the lesser item in a barter consisting of a beer which costs a max of four dollars in a New York City bar all the way down to perhaps thirty cents if we’re talking about a beer that’s been pumped from a keg. It’s also so fun because one could assume given even a moment’s thought (FYI, during the squats track in a Body Pump class, one takes all available mental vacations) that a traded girlfriend would be expected to perform sexual favors. So, this guy, like a travelling minstrel from the days of Arthur’s court, told a tale, sponsored by a major corporation, of human sex trafficking for the sweet, delicious taste of the Rockies at a robust 4.2% ABV. I won’t lie and say it didn’t add a little something extra special to my Saturday morning.
Though I was too shy to talk to the human embodiment of a party after my class, he gave me a lot of food for thought. He was not only a hoot but also helpful because in America in 2014, women can do anything men can do. We are CEOs, doctors, lawyers, teachers, vets, Vets, directors, parents, partners, comedians, and grifters. Sometimes we’re so busy doing all of these things that we forget that a significant percentage of the population still sees us as just orifices only just slightly below the delicious mouth of a freshly cracked Coors Light.