Mail me. Go home.
I was in England for the First Discworld Convention, and spent some time before it with a friend who "had some anger issues with women" (my quotes). He had a tendency to call them "stupid cows," and me in particular. I chose to think it was largely affectionate. But still, after a week of this, the bovine theme got pretty tiresome.
Then I got to the convention, and had a wonderful time with people who started as total strangers to me. I got to know some of them really well. And one day toward the end of the convention, it occurred to me... We were walking down the street in search of lunch, and I looked around and realised I was the only female there, and that it wasn't the first time that weekend that I'd been the only female in a group. And the thought was into my head and out my mouth at once.
"Hey! I've been around guys all weekend, and not once has anyone called me a stupid cow!"
Of course, you couldn't say something like that around these people. Not without something coming of it. I didn't know that at the time, and instead my instant fear was that people would think I was trying to get sympathy. And when Colm Buckley, brilliant and terminally kind man that he is, opened his mouth, I was so afraid that's what I was getting. What he actually said, in tones of great sympathy for me, mild reproof for whoever used the "stupid cow" term, and generally "Come now, cheer up!"-ness, was the now-classic response:
"Oh, no. No no. You're not. You're a very, very intelligent... pig."