Sydneysiders

Disclaimer: the following statements are merely observation…

In Portland, if a female of decent appearance should frolic through a park (let’s say… Laurelhurst, for example) in her swimsuit in midsummer, where other individuals are doing likewise, it would not be altogether strange for her to receive (if you can call it that) one, two, or three remarks and/or “looks” (you know the kind I mean) from people of the opposite sex. This isn’t a revolutionary insight; it’s neither here nor there. It just is.

Now, said female may think nothing of this, except to be occasionally annoyed or even grossed out, until she goes to Australia, specifically Sydney. Imagine her surprise when, clad in similar attire (close to nothingness) she frolics on the beach chock-full of Aussies, particularly of Middle Eastern or Mediterranean descent, and she receives (if you can call it that) not one, not two, not three, but ZERO remarks and/or looks?

She would feel, I presume (because this is obviously hypothetical) a very brief, mild-in-intensity, moment of disappointment (I mean, she’s only human, right?), followed by a twinge of guilt at the discovery that she has such shallow expectations. She then likely reminds herself confidently that her value is not based in, nor gauged by, male attention. This reminder would, again presumably, lead to an exhilarating sense of freedom! She was invisible! How marvelous! She can frolic, walk, run, play, or trudge through the shallows with book in hand (probably the most likely option) without any interruptions or disturbances. She may, on occasion, glance up to be sure she’s not about to trip over a toddler half-buried in the sand, only to see a male in her age range looking at her. Oh wait, no, he’s looking through her. How splendid… When she relays this information to her cousin, she (likely) gives a matter-of-fact reply, “Sydneysiders keep to themselves.”

Perfect!