I collect buttons on my camera strap, and often get comments or questions about them. But even more often, I catch folks trying to read them surreptitiously. I find it amusing when they quickly look away nonchalantly when they see me see them.

But while Beverly and I were in an elevator aboard ship in the Bahamas, one fellow (in an elevator otherwise populated by women) was asking about them individually. “Yes, that’s a Planned Parenthood button,” I answered about the pink one that reads, “Don’t fuck with us. Don’t fuck without us.” “The ‘Can I kiss you?’ one is about consent.” I had a sneaking suspicion about where he really wanted to go.

“And the orange one?” Yep.

“It’s pretty self-explanatory,” I replied. “It means just what you think it means!” Beverly chimed in.

He hung his head and blushed badly, and all the women smiled and tried to suppress their chuckles as he exited quickly.

The orange button, if you can’t read it, says, “Pussy: It’s what’s for dinner.”