Yes, actually that’s a little bit of the current romance story I’m working on, it’s about a stripper who stopped doing lefty shit to take care of her little sister after their parents died falling in love with a sexy revolutionary and them helping to bring about full communism.  It’s like somewhat aside from the main part of the story, but it does also deal with her getting taken less seriously by shitty people in the movement.

Here’s a bit of the introduction:

So before this story starts off, let me tell you, I’m probably not the kind of gal you normally root for.  From my very big very fake boobs to my extension filled platinum blonde hair to my hot pink talons, sexual promiscuity and sky high heels and that little wiggle in my walk, let’s be honest, a lot of other women often kinda don’t like me, some women because I’m “reinforcing patriarchal beauty standards” and others because they believe my mere existence is going to tempt their menfolk away from home and hearth into my welcoming (yeah right) arms, and others because they assume my boobs are inversely proportional to my brain (which even if they were wouldn’t make me a bad person) and men treat women like me nice when they won’t give them the time of day (which is bullshit, I just get treated a different kind of shitty.) 

Now let me also explain that I don’t want your man, I don’t think the way I look is any better than how you look, and that the next time a dude is shitty to you in my presence he’s getting a stiletto to the family jewels and you’re getting a hug if you want one and a tissue from my giant pink purse if you need one.