Guys yelled at me and the friend I was walking with as they drove by.
Published on September 27, 2016 at 10:26 amno comments
three different people shouted at me from cars, on three different occasions but around the same area.
Published on September 26, 2016 at 1:20 pmno comments
Waiting to cross a busy street, this guy in a white pick up slows down and blocks traffic to leer and say “I’d like to do you a favor sometime.” He says something else and I tell him to “knock it off and move along.” The look on his face completely changes in a way that scares me. He continues to sit there. I say “goodbye” and he calls me a bitch before finally leaving.
Published on September 26, 2016 at 1:18 pmno comments
I was followed around the downtown San Jose area by a large man wearing an oversized black hoodie, long black pants, black gloves, tennis shoes, and a gold Halloween mask that resembled the comedy mask on the symbol for theater. He followed me on a black bike, asking what my name was, where I lived, and if I eat cat food (I was wearing cat ears). He behaved erratically and may have been armed. Please keep an eye out for this individual.
Published on September 26, 2016 at 1:14 pmno comments
A woman was walking west on King St. W., a major nightclub district in Toronto, on a Saturday night. She was walking west, about to cross Bathurst, when a man, walking east, approached her and said “Hi, my name is [his name which I didn’t catch],” then extended his hand to shake hers. Possibly out of habit, she shook his, but he held on and tried on some pick-up moves, and she, much like the cat in the Pepé Le Pew stories, struggled to release his grip as she obviously wanted to cross the street and get on with her night. I yelled out “Let her go! Let her go! Let her go! You don’t know her! Let her go!” and then, to anybody would would listen “Don’t ever do that!” Since someone was standing in between me and them, and to avoid collateral damage, I didn’t yell as loud as I could, which I later regretted.
After a few seconds, she managed to break free, and he went in a different direction. I “followed” him by staying a few meters ahead of him, looking back to see if he was still going the same way as me, and promising to myself I’d intervene if he tried to do it again, but also to see if I could be able to describe him later. (The best I could come up with when talking to a friend about it was “he wore a white sports jacket, and a black shirt.”)
I was a little tipsy from the two beers I had earlier in the night (so I wasn’t sure where my bravery was coming from), and all of a sudden, right after the encounter, I had a heightened fear response, so I crossed the street, something I also regret doing. Even so, I tried tracking him from across the street, but realized later that it might have been a similarly-dressed guy (who was walking a dog, and with what looked to be a woman friend of his). It feels silly that I feared for my physical safety when there were so many people around, and it also feels silly that the only tool I felt I had at the time was to yell at him. Ineffectively?
I’d love to be a more involved bystander than I was that night, and would love to know what to look for, to notice street harassment more. It pains me that I’m blind to it after reading the undeniable stories of it, and if I notice it more, I want to be able to do something about it.
Published on September 26, 2016 at 1:12 pmno comments