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Abstract

No. I’m not Will Smith crazy. I’m just little woman crazy.He saw the crazy and decided to shut the hell up. His drunken state might have rendered me an hallucinatory form in his tiny mind awash in beer. Maybe he saw a terrifying little troll wielding a magic sword. Whatever. It made him stop.Similar to Chris Rock not expecting to get slapped at the Oscars, this guy didn’t expect a little, deceptively calm woman to whack him upside the head with a pool cue. It’s the unexpected you gotta watch out for.You know, comedians slapping other comedians when it’s not slapstick, and cute little blondes with stilettos on their feet and up their sleeves.That’s how friend and colleague David Neenan described me once,<blockquote id="e3ac">“Carol is the cute little blonde with a stiletto up her sleeve.”</blockquote>You’ve been warned.I’m not really violent. Twenty years of Aikido taught me how to deescalate stuff, and blend with attacks. This event was pre-Aikido. And post divorce.Fortunately, the woman my husband left me for had equally, if not smaller, small titties. Otherwise, who knows what might have happened when I was teased about my itty, bitty titties.After he sh

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ut up, he left the bar, and I worried about him for a long time. Still do actually. I’m feisty, but I’m not heartless. He was too drunk to leave.I’ve since raised a son who would never make fun of a woman’s breasts. He was too fond of his “mama juice.” Plus, he respects women. Although if you watch his YouTube channel Moonlair360 you might wonder. His women friends will vouch for him. Some of them are the ones in the videos.Many of us women are as sensitive about our breast size and shape as many men are about their penis sizes. Hollywood and porn didn’t help with that for those of us who grew up in the pin-up girl era.I’m now a member of the D-Cup Club, thanks to my son and his mama juice. I’ve learned to embrace these adornments, and to not care what guys think about them. I learned that while still a member of the Itty, Bitty, Titty Committee.Unfortunately for the guy in the bar, I didn’t learn it before he mouthed off.I like to think that he made it home safely, or that his friends found him and took him home. I also hope he remembers the event and developed a new respect for women and their breasts.Or at least he developed a healthy respect for small blonde women bearing pool cues.</article></body>

NO SLAP

I Threatened to Take a Pool Cue Upside the Head of a Guy in a Bar

He’d laughed at my itty, bitty, titties

Girl on pool table bouncing 8 ball. Representing author Carol Lennox. Photo by Kyle Cleveland on Unsplash

My friend and I are playing pool in a small bar. A young guy, so drunk he’s holding up the wall, cat-calls my friend for her large breasts. More than once.

On the third cat-call, I ask him to stop. Instead of stopping, he loudly exclaims I’m just jealous because I have itty, bitty, titties.

At that moment I, all five-foot-2-inches, 120 pounds of me, flip my pool cue butt end up, walk up to him and threaten to whack him up the side of his head with it if he kept talking.

He shuts up.

Would I have done it?

No. I’m not Will Smith crazy. I’m just little woman crazy.

He saw the crazy and decided to shut the hell up. His drunken state might have rendered me an hallucinatory form in his tiny mind awash in beer. Maybe he saw a terrifying little troll wielding a magic sword. Whatever. It made him stop.

Similar to Chris Rock not expecting to get slapped at the Oscars, this guy didn’t expect a little, deceptively calm woman to whack him upside the head with a pool cue. It’s the unexpected you gotta watch out for.

You know, comedians slapping other comedians when it’s not slapstick, and cute little blondes with stilettos on their feet and up their sleeves.

That’s how friend and colleague David Neenan described me once,

“Carol is the cute little blonde with a stiletto up her sleeve.”

You’ve been warned.

I’m not really violent. Twenty years of Aikido taught me how to deescalate stuff, and blend with attacks. This event was pre-Aikido. And post divorce.

Fortunately, the woman my husband left me for had equally, if not smaller, small titties. Otherwise, who knows what might have happened when I was teased about my itty, bitty titties.

After he shut up, he left the bar, and I worried about him for a long time. Still do actually. I’m feisty, but I’m not heartless. He was too drunk to leave.

I’ve since raised a son who would never make fun of a woman’s breasts. He was too fond of his “mama juice.” Plus, he respects women. Although if you watch his YouTube channel Moonlair360 you might wonder. His women friends will vouch for him. Some of them are the ones in the videos.

Many of us women are as sensitive about our breast size and shape as many men are about their penis sizes. Hollywood and porn didn’t help with that for those of us who grew up in the pin-up girl era.

I’m now a member of the D-Cup Club, thanks to my son and his mama juice. I’ve learned to embrace these adornments, and to not care what guys think about them. I learned that while still a member of the Itty, Bitty, Titty Committee.

Unfortunately for the guy in the bar, I didn’t learn it before he mouthed off.

I like to think that he made it home safely, or that his friends found him and took him home. I also hope he remembers the event and developed a new respect for women and their breasts.

Or at least he developed a healthy respect for small blonde women bearing pool cues.