Spill some Juice (Spoilers!)
It was hot.
And so I pushed open the door beyond which sat misogynistic caricatures of men, discussing everything from poop to politics. And all of a sudden, the commotion which had been rattling my eardrums and intriguing the kids to come outside and partake and increase the hullabaloo―it died down. It died down in the din of the cooler. The cooler which was just a periphery became a central figure to my struggle against patriarchy.
My curious friends, zeitgeist of the modern woman trapped in the dichotomy of adulation and negation, watched me make my way into the "men's room".
No longer was I bound in the shackles of man-ordained womanhood, no longer did I suffocate under injustice, no longer did I feel overwhelmed by responsibilities. For the cooler took it all, away and apart in its liberating air.
And silence bespoke. I was not spilling tea anymore in the kitchen, it was time for some juice.
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| Source: IMDb |
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