TO THE man driving the red Jag in Sydney yesterday,

I find you fascinating. I find you fascinating because you stopped your car in the road without indicating or pulling over to the side. And when I tooted my horn briefly, thinking perhaps you were looking at your phone or were unaware of the build-up of traffic behind you, you became enraged.

“You f***ing slut!” you yelled out the window, once I managed to manoeuvre my car past.

I was shocked, of course. “Did you just call me a slut?” I asked.

“Yes!” you shouted. “Because you are one!”

media_camera The angry man in the red Jag. Picture: Kerri Sackville

I was stunned. I sat there, unmoving, as cars waited behind me. You called me a slut? Really? Because I tooted you when you stopped in the middle of the road?

It perplexed me. You perplex me. For a start, I don’t really understand the term ‘slut’.

I mean, I know it refers to a woman with numerous sexual partners, but why is this actually an insult? We don’t have a name for men with many sexual partners, except perhaps ‘stud’ or ‘Lothario’, neither of which you are likely to shout out a car window.

But assuming that ‘slut’ is, indeed, a slur, why would you say it to me? If you recall, I didn’t look at all ‘sluttish’. I was wearing no makeup, grey jeans, and a plain, high-necked tee. And while you couldn’t know my age, I’m 47 years old. (I know! You thought I looked much younger, huh?) I’m not sure what a typical ‘slut’ looks like, but I suspect it’s not like me.

And the reality is that I’m not even close to being a slut. I’m divorced with three kids, and don’t have the time or desire to go out and have sex with dozens of men. In the past year I’ve had maybe (hang on, let me just count on my fingers) one sexual partner. While I’m happily not celibate, I’m hardly a trollop.

When a woman is insulted by a man, he will frequently use sexual slurs. A man might be called an ‘a***hole’ or ‘d***head’, but a woman is called a slut or a whore. And this reflects a deep, ingrained sexism within our society.

Can you imagine if I was a man, and had tooted my horn in exactly the same way? If my name was Ken, and not Kerri, and I had a beard and ripped pecs?

“You have sex with heaps of women!” you would not have yelled in a million years, or

“You’re shockingly promiscuous!” you wouldn’t have cried.

No, you might have given me the finger, or sworn out the window, but you would never have cast aspersions on my sexual proclivities. You would never consider a man to be a whore. That is solely the province of us women.

I’m angry at you, Red Jag, and not for the reason you think. I truly don’t care if you believe I’m a slut or a whore, as bizarre as it would be to draw that conclusion from my driving habits. There is nothing wrong with having lots of sex with lots of people.

What makes me angry is that you reduced me to your perception of my sexual worth, something you would never dare to do to a man. What makes me angry is that you judge women on our (perceived) promiscuity, and that you use the word ‘slut’ as if it was the most despicable slur in the world. What makes me angry is that you are just a young man (the policewoman told me), and that I expected much more from the next generation.

Before I sign off, let me ask you one question. Do you have a mother? A sister? A girlfriend? A granny? Because when you reduce one woman to a sexual stereotype, you demean us all. Today you demeaned every woman you love. Think about that next time you get in your car.

Kerri

Originally published as ‘Did you just call me a slut?’