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Kansas City MO 64131





Cindy Maddera

Michael and I left to the concert only to get to our car who's battery was dead. You see, when Michael parked the car, he put it in park and then just got out. I sat there for a minute wondering if he was going to figure out that he'd left the car running, but he was busy marking our parking spot on the map for later. So, I reached over and killed the ignition and retrieved the keys. Turns out that when this is done after the driver side door has been shut, the car lights decide to not shut off on their own. They stay on and drain the battery. We got into the car and nothing happened. 

Right at that moment, a guy on a golf cart drove by and we flagged him down. Michael asked him about getting a jumpstart from someone. The young guy looked at us and said "uhhh...yeah...uhhh..let me go check on that." Then he left and we never saw him again. We stood there for five minutes or so trying to figure out what to do next. Occasionally someone would walk by and we'd ask if they had jumper cables. No one had jumper cables or they were parked "way over that away". Michael looked at me and said "I'm going for help" and he walked off in the direction of the stadium. Meanwhile, I stayed with the car and continued to ask people as they walked by if they could help. 

Two men walked by and I stepped up and asked them if they had jumper cables. The guy who answered said "We're parked way over at the Taco Bell. I got tacos! But Hey, You've got boobs and an iPhone, so you should be okay." I don't even know if I managed to get any words out. Now that I think about I might have said "thank you" and if that's true, then I'm punching myself in the face. But I'm pretty sure that I mumbled a thank you as I stood there by my car with the hood up and an awkward half smile on my face. A few minutes later my phone started ringing. It was Michael and he'd found real help from an actual tow-truck service provided by stadium parking. When he got back to the car, I told him about what had happened. He said that it was probably a good thing he hadn't been there. The tow truck guy arrived and we got to work on getting the car started and then headed home.

On our way home, Michael asked me how I felt about the whole thing with the taco guy. I told him that at the time of it happening, I was too stunned to really think about anything, but now I'm super pissed that I wasn't quick enough to come up with a witty and cutting reply for the jerk. Michael wanted to know how big the guy was and if he could have beaten the jerk up. This must be a Y chromosome thing. I appreciate the sentiment, but I could have beaten the guy up and had in fact been wearing the proper shoes to do so. When I posted the exchange on Facebook, I had one commenter suggest that I really did have an upper hand because of my boobs and phone, while the jerk only had tacos. I've had a really hard time letting this comment go. Again, I'm sure he means well but it is an ignorant, naive and stereotypical response. 

First of all, having boobs has nothing to do with my ability to properly apply jumper cables to my own car battery. Implying that I need to 'use' my body parts to get some other person to do this for me, is insulting. Secondly, I know that this commenter has daughters, which leads me to wonder what he's teaching them. I have an image of his lesson forming in my brain where he says "Now girls, when you get a flat tire, here's what you need to do. Reach your hands inside your bra and plump up your bosoms. You might even lean forward to reposition them in your bra. Then tug your t-shirt down low. When a guy stops and asks you if you need any help, lean into him slightly, leading with your breasts. After he's done changing the tire for you, he may decide to cop a feel. This is understandable considering you did use your boobs as leverage for his services. I say, go ahead and let him. It's the least you can do for him changing your tire." 

Men, I want you to imagine teaching your own daughters that lesson. Yeah...just go ahead and teach them how to show a little cleavage instead of how to actually change the tire on their car or how to hook up jumper cables. Look into your perfect little angle's eyes and tell her that it is perfectly acceptable for men to objectify her body. Because that is what you are doing every time you say objectifying words to another woman. 

But, I mean, hey! If you've got boobs and an iPhone, baby you can do anything.