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September 2, 2019 | by  | in Editorial |
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Your bus is late. People die every day.

Last week, it was a late night so after work some of the crew went to Lulu. If you don’t know where Lulu is, don’t come because there’s already a line outside on Saturdays and I’m not tryna wait any longer to get inside.

 

It was my round, so I went to the bar to get some drinks. Muscling my way through people ‘trying’ to dance to Burna Boy, I slid behind a couple at the bar who were waiting to order drinks. He was dressed in a matching suit, head to toe, and slicked back hair, while his date was in an elegant jumpsuit. A dashing combination⁠—how could this go wrong?

 

The space between them wasn’t much, but you could assume they came together. If not, he was spitting so much game that it was clear he was trying to leave together. The flex type of game⁠—you can tell by the way people move their jaw. If someone’s resting one whole arm on the bar as if their wallet has got so much money weighing them down, it’s a subtle flex. Either way, she was having a giggle and giving him her attention.

 

The bartender finishes up his last order and directs his attention to them, with a simple, “How may I help you?”
This guy⁠—I shit you not⁠—takes a bill out and throws it at the bartender. Before he can get his order out of his mouth, the bartender picks up the bill, and tells him to get the fuck out. As he was dragged out by the bouncer, the woman he was with was left at the bar. She appeared disenchanted, but not lost, as she went back to her table.

In that moment, the only thing I could think about was transparency. I felt bad for her, and the time she wasted talking to him.

He wasn’t transparent about being an asshole.

^Salient works very hard at being transparent. If you couldn’t tell, check out the 12 pages VUWSA inserted into this magazine to plug their own elections. It’s not paid content if they underpaid you and force you to include their near-illiterate blurbs.

 

To be as transparent as possible, we’re terribly worried. The last four features we have received in August all have something in common: There’s nothing similar about the authors, or the places they come from⁠—one’s from Massey for fuck sakes.

 

They all reference some form of abuse. Two of these reference men who have emotionally abused them. One references a close girlfriend (near fiancée) that had physically abused them and used them for financial security. The other questions the laws around consent and physical abuse in the bedroom. These are pieces people tear out of their diaries and want us to publish, for other people to read and learn from. 

 

More often than not, we are defined about what we publish, rather than what we don’t. However, what we don’t publish really worries me about what some of you are going through. We struggle reading through some of them because they’re jarring and triggering.

 

I hate to be this guy, but you please look for plenty of signs of consent, not just one. Mutual, enthusiastic, voluntary, informed, ongoing, free and full, is the only way you should be truckin’.

This week, stay healthy. Be transparent with yourself. Not just one, but all three.

And if you want to order a drink, use a card. What asshole uses cash?

 

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