Pleasure of Privilege

I accosted a man today.   Maybe accost is a strong word but his initial body language indicated that I might have invaded his space.  Before the encounter he was moving at a leisurely pace with his canine … a pooch who looked a lot like this …

Pleasure of Privilege

and my curiosity pulled me into his baby’s space.

This adorable teacup Doberman caught me off guard by his cuteness.  I didn’t curb my enthusiasm.  I wasn’t the usual standoffish, stiff yet composed woman who would normally appear in the presence of a “stranger.”

Nope.

I went over to him, practically leaping, but not too close because this tiny baby was beginning to wedge his body between his pop’s ankles.

Then in the next moment the pup’s curiosity got the better of him and he moved closer to me to investigate my canine baby.

I asked his daddy – “what’s his name?”   Mind you, the man just called to his baby by name, to heel. Still, I demanded this 6’ 5” tall man with long dreadlocks tell me directly.  He complied, because I’m a woman exercising her privilege.

“How old is he,” I continue with my interrogation.

“About three months,” the man then looked up as if to make sure he was answering me honestly. “Yeah, three months.”

“A Woman accosted a man in Douglas county, Georgia today.”

Something we rarely hear because no matter how offended a man may be when a woman interrupts his daily routine, it’s probably hard for him to admit he’s been objectified.

 “Woman” in this sentence is the subject – the man is the object.”

I learned that in the first season of crime thriller “The Fall”.

But I digress.

It didn’t dawn on me, though.  Not even when I asked to take a picture of his puppy son.  He paused briefly, then with a beautiful and gracious smile, this man wearing Jesus-like shoes said,

“Of Course”

I reached for my phone and it wasn’t where I normally keep it.

This time I paused, and said, “The only day, I don’t have my phone.”

Then he softened even more.   He asked if I lived on the block.  “No,” I said” I live over there – pointing to the block he was heading towards. I said do you walk with him around this time?

He said. “I do.”

“Ok, maybe I’ll see you two again,” I offered.

He bent down slightly to cock his head in my direction as if to tip an invisible hat.

I did a little pivot, lined up with the leash and with Dug on the other end we walked together in the opposite direction…

When Dug finished his business, I turned around and I saw the man continuing at his leisurely pace, his baby pup right by his heels.  He hadn’t yet passed my house.

I reached in my bag and looked at my phone.

I tugged on Dug’s leash and said, “let’s take it slow and let them have their time.”

Pleasure of Privilege

4 thoughts on “Pleasure of Privilege

  1. I loved this post. Very entertaining while at the same time explaining why dogs are loved by most of their owners. Furthermore the idea of a six foot five brother with a tea cup dog is a bit funny too. I see a lot of guys with stereotypical pit bulls but a brother with a cute little dog kills the idea that most men prefer huge dogs. Well written and I do enjoy reading.

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