CAPE COD, MA—Y’all know me. Know how I earn a living. I’m just an ol’ sailor come to share some thoughts on these changing times we’re all living though. First off, I’d just like to emphasize that forcing the binary of gender upon humanity has been one of the most oppressive burdens our species has ever had to bear. That said. My boat? She’s all woman.
Now, I may be a little old fashioned. After all, I’m just an ol’ sailor, as I said. Probably taken one too many swigs of rum from the mizzenmast on the port side of the scuttlebutt, if you catch my drift. But to me, gender ain’t nothing more than an emergent feature of social situations, both as an outcome of and a rationale for various social arrangements. But my boat is a girl! Just look at those curves? The sex appeal! Sorry, I’m too stuck in my weird, sailor-y ways to untether this precious vessel from the dock of a binary world!
Sometimes ya gotta call a spade a spade! Unless that spade is a person and doesn’t identify as female, in which case you address them however they want to be addressed. It’s 2020 and being a decent person isn’t that hard! That said, I gotta spell this out fer ya: I’m exclusively attracted to ladies. My boat is my sea wench. And that’s why my boat’s pronouns are still she/her/hers!
What could better embody the appropriate trappings of constructed femininity than my boat? Am I alone at sea for months and months and the sensual touch of her warm hull is the only thing keeping me sane? Do I steer her bravely in the freedom of open waters to protect her from the virile gaze of lesser sailors? Do I sometimes lay a lacy, powdered wig across Victoria’s helm and gently stroke her until the ocean rocks us both to sleep? Have I never had much success reeling in human women on land? Aye aye, matey!
Alls I know is that gender is complicated, and that people deserve respect and love. Every one of us. Anyway, I’ll catch your shark for $3,000, but kill it for $10,000.
