On her daily walk around Hancock Park (in hopes of spontaneously bumping into Timothee Chalamet and engaging in the meet-cute of the century), non-local barista Natasha Daniels realized something was different.
No, she didn’t finally meet Timothee.
Her walk had certain fixtures in its routine. Daniels would greet the two other regulars she saw. She’d spot the mailman dropping off envelopes and packages. She was wearing a mask this time (as to single-handedly lower the curve of COVID-19 cases). But this time, something was amiss (something was missing).
At 11:32 A.M. PST, Daniels realized that not one single geriatric man told her that she “should smile more!”. This was a perpetual component of her walks. Daniels would offer a tight-lipped, wan smile in return. The men would trod off gleefully, feeling like they made a difference in the world/changed the world so that it would be more pleasing to them (and them only).
However, now, things were different. The mask had done more than just prevent illness-laden particles from entering her mouth. It prevented the misogyny-laden men from giving unsolicited “advice” to young women.
