Here’s real sex for you
Sex. Sex discrimination, sexual harassment, sexism, sexualism, sextuplismics – that is something Swedish
In short, sex. In shorter, men and women together.
I do like the small town I live in because the men and women there get along very well indeed, thank you.
They like what they are and they like what the other ones are. They rub along nicely
Susannah is 19. She is a street girl. She works the streets. She does the square every day and the little ginnels that run off it.
Then she cleans up in the cattle market and finishes her shift round the back of the Town Hall.
She works hard. Also ,she looks terrific. She does it in frayed denim shorts, T-shirt and Doc Martens. She starts at 10 in the morning and finishes at eight at night which is a long day for a working girl.
She does a tidy job, Susannah. Everybody is most satisfied.
The four other street-sweepers are men and for most of the year, with their barrows and brushes, they keep our town clean.
But during the summer months the tourists pass through and say “oh, what a nice place this is” and then drop their bits of muck all over it and go away.
So Susannah, who is at University reading engineering, gets a brush and a barrow and does her holiday job. She sweeps our streets.
The plain common sense of small-town men and women and the natural ease they feel with each other means that they would never dream of saying such sentences as: “That is no sort of work for a woman!”
Or: “Disgraceful! Bare legs and bending over like that – and in the High Street!” Or, at the other end of things: “But that’s what they’re for, women. Sweeping up.” Or: “Just look at the legs on that! Bet she’s a goer!”
No. We respect our Susannahs. Most women and men know what they are and they like what the other ones are and they rub along together.
Rubbing along together does, of course, produce some friction sometimes. There is indeed a long history of conflict.
But there is also a long history, very much longer, of men and women actually liking and looking after each other.
They will rub along, friction and all. Women and men do do. There is the nine-year old woman whom I’ve known very well over the years and, whenever she is asked what she is going to be when she grows up by condescending people, she puts the old hands on the hips and stamps the old foot, as a spirited woman should do. “I’m going to be a proper little madam!”
Our Susannah has spirit. She is her own man. She knows what she is and so does the chap from Mirfield whom she’s going to marry next year when they both graduate.
They will be engineers. They will rub along together, friction and all.
Here is a tale from Follifoot, near Harrogate, about sexual equality and good marriage between a spirited women and a spirited man.
On holiday in Hungary the lady was cornered in a wood by a big male pig with tusks on.
“Whatever can we do to help,” said the other tourists to her husband.
“Nowt,” said the happily married Yorkshireman.
“He got himsen into it. He can get himsen out.”
Now then, there is real sex for you.