Once there was a girl named Jenny. She was like all the other girls, especially for this one thing: she always wore a black hair tie around her wrist.
There was a boy named Alfred in her class. This made sense, as names from the 1900s had cycled back into fashion. Alfred liked Jenny, and Jenny liked Alfred, despite his name.
One day he asked her, “Why do you always wear that black hair tie around your wrist?”
“I cannot tell you,” said Jenny, in an attempt to practice boundary setting as encouraged by her therapist.
But Alfred, who was not partial to respecting boundaries and often felt entitled to women’s personal information, kept asking, “Why do you wear it?” And then he would reach over and snap it on her wrist.
Jenny would say, “Ow, fuck, stop. It’s not important.” Then she’d slide the hair tie up and down her arm to change the spot where an indentation was forming due to lack of circulation.