Everyday sexism, on Leicester Square.

Standard

Street cleaner I’ve never clapped eyes on before. He’s at least 30 years my senior, walking behind me down an alleyway on Leicester Square, pushing his council issued litter wheelbarrow.

Cleaner: Baby! Baby, you so sweet.
Me: Sorry, were you talking to me?
C: Mm, mm, mm. You suh-WEET, girl!
Me: Thanks. *I carry on walking, he clatters after me*
C: Anyway, I been meaning to say – we gotta spend more time together.
Me: Right.
C: I’m telling you, yeah. No more cold shoulder, you’re gonna come and spend some time with me. *Suggestive face* you know what I mean when I say that, yeah?
Me: *Turning in to my shop* Choke. *Slams door in his face*

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