This is an older article from Ebony, but given the Weinstein topic from yesterday, I find it à propos.
An anonymous woman gets the hots for her boss, Casey, who returns the sentiment. Remembering her Grandmother’s sage advice that ‘closed legs don’t get fed’, Princess overlooks the mediocre sex, and pays attention to the advantages accrued.
Before long, Casey and I were in bed (and on his desk) and I went from an assistant to a coordinator two months later. The sex wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t mind blowing. However, the perks of being the boss’ woman were too good to pass up. Within 10 months of me being there, I was promoted twice and now I was managing a team at my dream company, doing my dream job. Score!! One day I overheard some of my coworkers talking about me and saying how disgusted they were that I was getting promoted only because I was sleeping with Casey. They said they would never “sleep their way to the top” and would much rather get promoted based on their hard work in the boardroom, not bedroom. Fools! To me, that mentality is exactly why they are where they are. Like granny said “Closed legs don’t get fed,” and in the corporate world it’s all about who you know, not necessarily what you know. If I can get ahead in my career being arm candy for the boss, you bet I will and with a smile on my face. I may have gotten promoted in the bedroom, but I know my stuff and it’s proven in the boardroom day after day and other people in management have complimented me on my work. Obviously, I’m doing something right.
Is Princess hoping for the gold medal win? A ring and a comfortable life of leisure on Casey’s dime?
To be honest, Casey is a great guy who is fun to be around and I do care about him. Do I see us getting married or anything? No. It’s not even a topic we’ve discussed nearly two years later. Right now I think we’re just two people giving each other what they need. For him, it’s steady sex with a beautiful woman and a chance to flex his ego and “boss” status. For me, it’s a way to further my career and have a little fun along the way. I know what people at work say and I know what someone reading this might say. But at the end of the day, I go to bed peaceful every night comfortable with my actions. My legs may be open, but I’m getting fed and very well. Granny would be proud.
But what if she were? What if her eyes were on a fluffy dress and happily ever after? And what if Casey declined? How quickly would Casey be a rapist and how much utter bullshit would that be?
The Ebony Princess is an adult, though, and she understands perfectly what she is trading, and why.
Trading sex for creature comforts and the luxury of having someone else (typically a man) do the brutal work of procuring those comforts is the story of human history. Cooking, cleaning and taking care of children and old people is a sweet and easy way to spend a life, compared to what most men have to do to survive.
Feminism has helped us to forget that.
True story: I know a rabid, verging on hysterical feminist (are there any other kind?), with a PhD in Women’s Studies no less, who will bark and hiss and moan about patriarchy and oppression and the tyranny of men, endlessly. She hates her Daddy and considers her Mommy a poor downtrodden victim of the forces of history that privilege men and punish women, and yet ……
She is married, has her husband’s name, Instagrams her pumpkin-decorating and floor cleaning projects, collects shiny things, cleans Pyrex and makes special cookies for her doggy babies (because real children are monsters who ruin your life).
Hubby pays the bills and listens to her rant about how terrible men are.
Oh yeah. He works in a mine. Digs rocks out of the ground for a living. Seriously.
Mrs. Feminist better hope her legs are open, because she has no skills to feed herself and she has no children who will care whether she eats or not. If hubby decides maybe babies are not monsters who ruin your life, she will be out on her ass in a hot minute, while he finds a younger, fertile and willing woman. Just an aside, but I find it so strange that the feminist’s own mother has nothing meaningful in her life except her daughter, yet the feminist can’t see that. The only meaningful thing in a woman’s life is her children.
God, look at her. How beautiful is this baby?
Casey the Boss is not a predator, and I suspect, neither is Harvey Weinstein (although I could be wrong). Mrs. Feminist’s husband is not a predator, either. No husband taking care of his family is a predator. The idea is preposterous.
#ThankAFeminist for that toxic philosophy.
The predators in this scenario are the women: especially lazy women who want all the luxury, and none of the work. Why should a man pay for a woman’s basic needs? What does he get out of that? What is he owed?
If a woman doesn’t care to provide those things, she has no claim to be provided for.
Closed legs don’t get fed.
Lots of love,