HOLLA ON THE GO: “Three Men”

I was walking down the street this morning. I had my earbuds in blasting music, so I couldn’t hear all of what was said. I also had sunglasses on, so I couldn’t see their faces. Not that I’d want to see/interact with them in the first place.

But I remember them–the three of them chatting, sitting on some bike rack or metal gate for cars. One voice above the others:

“Hey, girl! Hey, girl! Why you (unintelligible)…”

Hands in my jeans pocket, my heartbeat tripled in pace. I decided to cross to the other side of the street because I didn’t feel safe, even though the place I was going was on the side I was originally on. A small price to pay for the apparently greater inconvenience of being a black woman in America.

A price I’m not willing to pay any more.