The girl who had two sets of teeth bit a man today. It’s unclear what made her snap but obviously, something had been gnawing at her for a long time. Maybe she couldn’t forget the man who bellowed at her on the street like a loudspeaker to a stray dog. Or that she’d been followed by various men dozens of times and had to duck into corner stores for safety. When she recalls the man in an Atlanta nightclub groping at her chest she feels her jaw crack from clenching. It’s not that the girl is angry… it’s that she’s over it. There’s a saying that goes, “men are from Mars and women are from Venus.” If you ask the girl, she’ll tell you that’s wrong. Women are born from the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Men are tablets of alka seltzer, they are flotsam and jetsam, they are quick to bite and slow to chew. For Halloween, she dressed up as Calypso. Her favorite flower is a vulva and her favorite exam is the Bechdel test. When I meet the girl for lunch, she tells me about her grand plan to build an underground women’s commune deep within the tectonic plates under the sea. Her teeth sparkle when she tells me about the weight-lifting rooms and the history books, and especially so when she mentions the Lazy Stephens and Donald Downers of this new world order. She even has ideas for a nine-person, all women Supreme Court – hey the girl can dream! But even I know, underneath her excitement is a layer of pain from the years of being told what to look like, and how to dress, and the advances and the ogling and the clandestine photographs taken of her and her sister while riding the train in broad daylight. Things came to a head last week when her OB-GYN referred her to a local dentist. The girl didn’t think much of it but the next time she takes a man to bed, she strips off her skirt and then his pants and feels a quivering sensation inside of her. Before she knows it something between her legs takes a hungry bite. Then his scream of shock, and a crunch that sounds like the skin of a bright red apple breaking apart.