Things I Should Never Have to Tell People, Part Squillionty-three

You know where is not a good place to try to pick people up?

Okay, I know, there are many such places, among them the office, your class (if you're a teacher), and pretty much anywhere if you're a politician. But somewhere near the top of the list should be the waiting room at your medical clinic.

And if you're a men's rights activist, do you know who is even less likely than any other random female who was minding her own business and reading a book to want to get a drink with you after her doctor's appointment?

Okay, I know there are many such women. This is, after all, the waiting room for a doctor's appointment. Also, you are, after all, a men's rights activist, which means you're probably, though not certainly, an entitled, self-important douche with no sense of history, no understanding of your own privilege, and no notion that your advances might be unwelcome. But really, once someone tells you she's a radical feminist, you really should just cut your losses and pick up an outdated magazine.

Or did I miss a memo, and is Wednesday afternoon at the medical centre kind of like Wednesday Night at the Laundromat?

( The longer version. No punchline, I'm afraid. )