MySpace Sucks

Myspace Sucks

NOTE: This post mentions sexual assault and transmisogyny.

One time at an open mic there was this dude with an annoying voice and annoying haircut that kept plugging his MySpace. (He was the one who plugged his MySpace, not his annoying haircut.) We called him “MySpace dude” and he became an inside joke among my close friends.

Then maybe two months later I went to a random party with a new friend I’d made, and who showed up? You guessed it, MySpace dude, with his annoying voice, his annoying haircut, and his guitar. I pretended to be ok with his existence and after awhile played a few of my songs on his guitar for everyone. People liked them.

Everyone got drunker and wilder. Then a nerdy kid drunk off his ass started flirting with me. He was Mr Drunk Roaming Hands Kid Who Wouldn’t Listen When I Said No.

“Stop,” I said, not wanting him to find out I’m trans, because I didn’t feel like being murdered that night.

“It’s ok if you’re on your period,” he slurred.

Mother fucking hell you clueless asshole.

But what I actually said instead was “STOP!” Very loudly. So everyone could hear. The room went quiet. He finally fucking backed off.

I got scared so I called a friend and asked her to pick me up. She rescued me like the angel she is. A week later I heard he found out I’m trans and got all angry. At me. For daring to be the person he sexually assaulted.

Generally speaking, if you have a problem with trans girls, you shouldn’t go around feeling girls up without their consent. Nor should you, like, go outside your house.

I never saw that asshole again. I never saw MySpace dude again. I didn’t really stop being friends with the girl who invited me so much as we just realized we have nothing in common and stopped hanging out. And now I have people in my life who consensually touch me and are fucking gorgeous and transness doesn’t even enter into the equation. So, you know, I guess the moral of the story is, MySpace sucks.