Man comes through my line and strikes up a conversation
Man is 20
30
40
years old 
and shows an interest
"Hey there, darling
little girl
condescending verb"
I swallow against the pit in my stomach
Smile and engage
I am not my own person here
I am an image
An extension of the corporation
Man insults my religion
or hair
or whatever else he decides isn't to his tastes
Then a smile and shrug
"You're too pretty
sweet
female
to decide who you are"
And I smile or laugh,
dig my nails into my skin
hoping to stall whatever is crawling beneath it
I am not myself
I don't have the right to be angry
and I can't afford another complaint from a wounded ego
So I thank him
What else can you do
when both fight and flight will land you homeless and burning
Man smiles
and I imagine what it'd look like ******-ed
It strengthens my waning self control for now
Man asks when I'm free
and I try not to remember the crimes
of other men who took an interest in me
I apologize and tell him I'm seeing someone
Sometimes it's even true
"Must be a lucky guy
owner
chain holder"
Sure
I don't correct him
I know what men like this think of girls who like girls
and they tend to respect what they perceive
as another male's claim
Eventually, it ends
but he still lingers
in the back of my mind,
when it's close to midnight 
and I'm walking through a dark, empty parking lot,
keys clasped in my fist
I am not wearing a name tag
Nobody owns me out here
I am me again
and I dare a ******* to take an interest