At some point in our lives, we’ve all wondered what it’s like to be a fly on the wall. Last Sunday, I unwillingly found out.
Allow me to set the scene.
I was enjoying a brunch date at a popular local restaurant near campus. The weather was splendid, which made my choice of patio seating inviting. However, if I could change one thing, it wouldn’t be my company, the food or the scenery — just the table of frat guys sitting next to us. The grotesque things that were coming out of their mouths so effortlessly was alarming but far from surprising.
We are living in a time where decorum is nonexistent.
Our presence did not cause them to shy away from their disturbing, racist, sexist, homophobic exchange. There was no regard for our table, the server or the elderly couple seated next to them. Not only was the female server uncomfortable, but the couple at the next table was also clearly upset by the use of their profanity and crude remarks. Our waitress told us that the couple who left were regulars and were, in fact, upset.
I’m sure the increased volume of their conversation was either deliberate, in order to provoke a reaction from us, or it was merely a side effect of their entitlement and deep-seated misogyny. It was total rage bait.
Not to mention, there was one girl, in addition to the five guys, sitting around the table rating the performances of the girls they had slept with over Halloweekend.
She wasn’t any better than the guys she seemed so proud to call confidants. I felt embarrassed for her. Instead of shutting down their conversation, she participated and made a slew of ignorant remarks herself.
She said she was first-gen, but still allowed racist remarks about her own ethnicity. She sat at a table with these guys and let them sexualize and berate women of color from a list of different cultural backgrounds.
She was a willing participant in the vitriolic hate speech they spewed that was harmful to all women — including herself. If she had common sense, she would realize she was potentially jeopardizing her own safety. So whatever validation or safety she thought she was receiving from participating isn’t real.
I wonder if she knows being a “pick-me girl” is overrated. Blink if you need help, girl.
It’s alarming, because I wondered if she was simply desensitized to these attitudes and if so, what kind of manipulation had she possibly been subjected to that would shape her into being complicit with this behavior?
It’s sad to know these sentiments are often expressed behind closed doors, but even more sad to have them said out in the open right next to us.
I had no clue my brunch would come with eggs and a side of insufferable commentary.
It’s moments like these when one’s hope in humanity is lost.
Hearing this type of harmful discussion coming from LSU students who are future doctors, lawyers, teachers, lawmakers and world leaders is unsettling.
I recommend steering clear of both obnoxious, entitled misogynists and “pick me girls” in all social settings, but unfortunately, we share classes and other common areas all too often with potentially dangerous people.
These types are the reason most of us guard our drinks so diligently, carry pepper spray and avoid dating without thorough background checks.
Hearing an aggressive conversation about sexual encounters with multiple girls over the span of two days and rating them was just wild timing, knowing that Halloweekend is known to have high rates of sexual assaults on college campuses. We can only hope the exploits they bragged about were consensual.
I urge everyone to be careful and vet the people you’re spending time with, because, as my plus-one Tracy said, “You can easily end up as a punchline at brunch, or, even worse, a statistic.”
And for the guy who sat mute in the presence of this treacherous behavior, think again about the company you keep and how you compromise yourself and whatever values you think you have in these situations when you seemingly don’t agree with your party. Don’t break bread with people whose beliefs are in direct conflict with yours. Your apologetic look as we exchanged eye contact wasn’t enough. In this case, your silence is violence, sir.
Bring back decorum. Bring back etiquette or stay at home. No one should be subjected to your nonsense, because you needed an audience with your cup of coffee. You never know who you may be sitting next to. It could be a professor, a future employer or your school newspaper opinion columnist.
Ava Francis is a 22-year-old journalism major from New Orleans.
