In the queue to pay for a t-shirt at a shop yesterday. A man in his 40's standing behind me pointed at the big, size 14 black t-shirt I was holding and said 'is that a bikini?'. I turned around to him and said, politely, 'no, it's a t-shirt'. He then tried to start a conversation with me about sunbathing. I told him I wasn't having a holiday this year, and had to work all through summer. He then tried to steer the conversation towards the topic of how hard we all have to work, and that's because there are loads of people around who'll take our jobs and do them cheaper than us. I made a non-committal 'hmmm' noise and then turned my back on him to pay.
After I left I started to feel really peed off - that his comment about the bikini was fucking impertinent, was intended to discomfort and embarrass me, and that having had no joy with that he thought he'd do a bit of immigrant bashing. I felt peed off that I was polite, and kept thinking about things I wish I'd said, mainly along the lines of 'A bikini? Do you need glasses?' or 'You know one of the most joyful things about getting older, fatter and plainer is not having to deal with snide and impertinent comments from men, so if you don't mind, can you mind your own business'.
It bought back all the unpleasant feelings I used to get being regularly harrassed by men in my teens (I'm 47 now), and the fact that 30 years on my instinctive response to an arsehole is to be simperingly polite.... Arrghh! Cross with myself.