Went to a deli with my wife. Per normal routine, I used my white cane to help me navigate 3D space. As we approached the counter, three workmen, already in line, turned to watch us. The men presented in worn clothes covered in paint or drywall. I picked up a vibe from them immediately, a non-verbal communique of threat. I’m guessing they liked my wife’s appearance and they couldn’t understand why she’d be with a cripple. Workmen have yelled at us before, “why aren’t you with a real man?” That’s the vibe I got from this lot.


After getting their food, the group walked around me to my left yet still managed to knock into me on my inside shoulder as they passed. I’m not sure if they wanted to start a fight or if they were simply establishing dominance in their own group. I smiled and nodded at them because my prefrontal cortex has closed. I left unsaid the ridiculousness of expecting a middle aged, visually impaired person of being interested in a fight.


My wife seemed like a prize to them but somehow of less immediate concern. The men sat at a table and stared me down as I got my food and paid out. My wife set my food down at a chair that would have put my back to the group. I rejected that seat immediately and sat next to her instead. I forced the men to look at both of us. I didn’t want to let them off the hook in denying my humanity. Or I was playing their petty game or I was unwilling to to turn my back on a threat. Or some combination of all three.


My wife ignored them the whole time, not even rolling her eyes. Like all women, she has practice in ignoring us. Despite the evolutionary morality on display, we had a nice lunch lost in some science rabbit hole or other. The group eventually left with sighs and grunts. When we got back to our car we had a nice chuckle.


Not a single word shared between our groups yet still an interesting case study in toxic masculinity.