On the eve of the holidays a friend and I have managed to get together to catch a boat. We are on the table to discuss, albeit briefly, our last issues. I have a dear friend, but our lives make us less than we would like.

We use the delicious tar-tar. Shortly thereafter, a group of young people has entered the area of the tables where we are. However, they are older. All boys. Sitting up close, you say you've ordered the bowls up.

Then you lift up one and upload the volume to the gigantic TV in front of you. The device that was silent starts screaming. Our voice has covered the huge noises of a football match. My friend I barely hear, communication has become a disease.

I've started to cheer, but we haven't told them anything. On the one hand, because we do not want confrontation, and on the other, because we have to celebrate it soon. The party has not yet started. They haven't even warned us. They know what football gives them permission and that being men, they also own space.

If it had been the other way around, and if women like us had increased the volume to see other kinds of sessions, what would have happened?