I'm a well read technosexual who's bluntly honest about all things, although I try to be most honest about myself.
What's funny is right before I read this, I was talking to my dad. About guys, particularly white guys. (And just so I don't generalize too much - yeah, rich orange guys, too.) And about how it's hard for guys today: they used to be able to get away with all this bullshit and it was swept under the rug, laughter, moving on. Now women speak up when men say and do things that demean them. So do people of color.
We were analyzing why, and I said I thought it was partly just that they were used to getting away with everything. He agreed.
And then fucking Hawkeye telling a woman that her name and her huge watermelons - that she's lugging around, and I just cannot even get around that phrasing - means she's a stripper. Or maybe she just has naturally humongous boobs. And yeah, sure, maybe her parents named her Peppermint.
The other thing that gets to me is that a man wouldn't be offended if you called his penis huge: that's not something that's looked down on. They are men, have lives, and potentially huge penises. It doesn't box them in if they do, it just means that they're, supposedly, super studs. So not only do men want to fling this shit everywhere, but they don't want to get called out for the same thing they call other people out for. Nope, not rewarding that behavior.
I literally... that one fucking line is what remains burned into my memory of this book. Because it was pointless: he's trying to help her, and insults her based on her female qualities. Which does not get her to trust him.
I'm glad Clint got over his shitty behavior phase and turned into someone awesome later on, though.