In the 1960s there was movement of women who thought they were being treated unfairly. These women banned together to show that they were free from the bonds of men everywhere. In their demonstrations these women would burn there undergarments signifying their release. Now a day, stories of this are but myth and legend. The idea of women walking around with no undergarments on is a little hard to believe and erotic at the same time!
Beth, my Liberal lover, was going off at the helm again about how the Republicans might win the election over Obama because of men like me who refuse to change their sexist ways. She kept saying how the country didn’t want change, and how we, uneducated men, weren’t ready for a man to lead the country who thought women his equal.
As she went on about us blue collared, uneducated types, I start drifting off. I was trying to think of a way to get Beth out of this conversation and into some black lace, and that’s when it hit me!
“Burn your bra,” I said to her.
Her response was a shocked, “Huh?”
I then recalled to her the mythical story of women’s liberation of the 60s and how this united women around the country. I explained in dramatic form how women fought for and earned their freedom from the tyrannical men of the world.
Beth had never heard me speak so passionately about anything and so she was persuaded the bra burning was just what this election needed in order to sway the polls to the left.
She started going over things which she need: 1)A place to burn them- 2) A guard to keep perverts out 3)News publicity 4) Someone to keep the fire going.
As the list went on and on I realized that everything she needed I could provide. I told her that I knew a spot downtown we could start a fire that would draw all kinds of attention and eventually the news. I even offered to guard the site while the women chanted and protests against the right. I even suggested that I could help the women take their bras off, so that the girls wouldn’t have to lower their hands from the shouting they were doing.
Beth was all too excited about the burning and she immediately started making cards and signs. She was on roll, and I was getting a beer. I kept dreaming about all those bra-less women, hands held high, screaming and shouting for freedom from the right. I wondered if I hung around the fire long enough, helping the women out of their garments, if they wouldn’t help me out of my restraints that the right has cast upon me.
I ran the idea past Beth. She wasn’t as all excited about the idea of women helping me burn my boxers. “This is a bra burning,” she said, ”Not a weenie roast.”
The idea of some bra burning-bunny helping me burn my boxers soon left my mind. After-all, I was afraid some pervert off the street would see it in passing, think he can burn his, and the next thing you know he’d be helping take off all those women’s bras. The nerve of some men!