Spit on a Stranger

I've been buried under a pile of books doing research all week and on top of that the weather has been dreadful. So when the sun shone today I decided to put the serious stuff aside and make the most of things by heading downtown for an afternoon of excrutiatingly early christmas shopping. Unfortunately as soon as I hit the heart of the city I experienced a most unfortunate turn of events.

Someone spit on me....
I was spat upon.

Although I do not believe this action was in any way premeditated, I certainly do feel as if it could have been prevented if the man in the red flannel shirt had simply glanced a few feet to his left and noticed that there was someone within the firing range. I didn't exactly notice until a few seconds after the fact when my partner jokingly commented on how close the man was to spitting on me. Only then did I glance at my sleeve and realize that he actually had (and it was bright red...gross!!).

I can't help but wonder why this happened to me in particular. I speak loudly, dress in vintage clothes that are often a little conspicuous and generally don't tend to "blend in" to a crowd. Yet I find that I am often shoved or stumbled over when I am walking in the street. I usually attribute this behaviour to my relatively small stature, but when I really think about it this explanation does not make a whole lot of sense. I am only a few inches shorter than most and am far from waifish.

After a little consideration it became clear that in all likelihood the man did see me there. He saw me and based on the combination of my age, gender AND size did not think twice about spitting in my direction. Again I doubt he actually intended to hit me, but on some level he recognized that there would be no reprocussions for him if he did. Whereas I believe that had I been larger than him, older than him or male he would have known to consciously avoid me because of what I would do to him if he had.

Which brings me to another aspect of this, which is my reaction to what happened. My partner immediately wanted to go after the man but I calmly asked what the point of this would be and attempted to regain my sunny day cheer. SERIOUSLY? Thinking back I can't believe I was not more confrontational. It was as if I felt that because this man had not done this on purpose, he was somehow exempt from the consequences of his actions (ie. getting flipped off, told off, spat on or fought). When in reality he deserved all this and more for ignoring me and assuming that I would simply take it. I hate to think about the fact that he was right...

I don't quite know how to feel about this whole situation now. All I can do is suggest that if any Red Flannel man ever approaches you chewing cinammon gum with an expression of distaste on his face...cross the street. I implore you.