Consent

I was in the restroom at work, ridding myself of last night’s turkey and provolone sandwich when two guys started chatting as they washed their hands:

“You remember So-in-so?”

“Rings a bell,” the other says, “Why?”

“Cause, I’m gonna get laid!”

“No shit.”

“Yeah, got a date with her Friday. There’s a pause, I assume they look at each other in approval. “So get this. It shows up on my Facebook that she just broke up with her boyfriend, right.” And he’s like, “Hey, I got an extra ticket to this show on Friday. A little Molly, some whiskey…”

“Damn straight, man. Tell me how it goes.”

That conversation is the product of rape culture. We really need to start seriously talking about CONSENT. Praying on the distraught and feeding them happy drugs so they lay there while you fuck them is not consent.

It’s scary how prevalent and casual rape culture is, particularly, I feel, among men. Guys will openly and candidly talk about rape yet blush when consent comes up. If this doesn’t feel relevant yet, then you haven’t been following Bill Cosby’s trial.

Cosby admitted to drugging women of which he wanted to have sex with, and yet the jury could not come to a verdict so a mistrial was declared.

So since it’s not completely obvious – if you have to drug, coerce, or by any means circumvent an individual’s right to consent (or ignore their consent altogether) before engaging in sexual activities then you are committing rape.

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