The day my ass was grabbed twice

The most notable thing about last Saturday is that my behind received a lot of unwanted attention.

Setting no 1: a young couple - very close friends of mine, who recently bought a house and renovated it completely (with a modest styling contribution from myself) - were hosting a housewarming party/barbeque where I was the only unmarried lady. As to be expected, a compact group of children were playing in the background making the usual noises sometimes covered by shrills.

The day was lovely and I was getting drunk on champaigne. Rather than being tedious, I was feeling great and slowly slowly let my guard down, being my usual loud self.  Almost unnoticed at first, one of the guests, a dad to be more precise although not sure where the respective mum was as I never asked, started flirting with me quite obviously and soon I started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Despite my habit, I decided to play with the children and - believe it or not! - I found that jumping around, going in circles holding hands until one falls, screaming and picking them up to the sky can be incredibly therapeutic. I was having a lot of fun until the dad came sniffing around like a wolf catching the scent of pray and asked me if I didn't mind giving him a tour of the house. Not wanting to be outraged by something that was yet unconclusive, I agreed and started walking up the stairs when suddenly I felt his hand on my behind. I turned around and said: 'And what exactly is that supposed to mean?' only for him to answer sheepishly 'I thought it was the bannister!' Well, I never thought my ass looked like the bannister!

Setting no 2: the same day, somewhere in club in Shoreditch. The usual Saturday night crowd, loads of drunken kids and very loud music. I went out for a fag break and started up a random conversation with a very loud Aussie who just descended into town. I guess I have the misleading habit of being ironic in a subtle way, as I think he took my irony for interest in hitting it off and became brave enough to grab my ass. 'Honestly?' I said, 'what was that for?' 'That's because you didn't want to be in the picture' (his friend had just taken a snap and I had covered half of my face with my hand). 'I have no desire for my face to appear all over Facebook on people I harldy know profiles, if you really must know' I said and turned around. A few seconds later I felt another touch of my bum. 'And what exactly are you trying to achieve with this?' I asked exasperated! 'Nothing, speak to you later!' and he disappeared.

After last Saturday, I have only two things to say: 1) my intense going to gym must have paid off!; 2) I really wonder why do men feel the need to grab your ass and can't even explain why?...


Other than that, a lovely autumn day with falling leaves and sunny spells.