Stalking, Verbal

Road Rage

I’m 13 years old and I was over my friend Monica’s house and she lives about 2 miles away from a 7/11 and she decides we should walk there. I thought it would be fun. (we live in MD in baltimore city) and it wasn’t really late at night or anything either, it was at about 5pm and cars were honking at us and I turned to Monica and said “you know, these guys are pigs its making me frustrated” and just then a guy across the street sitting in front of his house says “hey sexy ladies how are you doin?” and I didn’t hear the entire phrase so I said “hey!” and monica said “shut up! don’t talk to him he wants you to come over there so he can rape you or something!” and then we kept on walking and he kept on talking but his voice faded as we walked. Then later, a car came by and honked at us and it scared me so I flipped him off and he turned on the next open road abruptly and turn around and waited for us to catch up with him. So when we realized this we went across to the other side. Then we were near him and right before he turned we ran back over to the other side of the street and he went in the other direction so I guess he gave up on it. I was extremely scared though. I almost started crying because I was so overwhelmed. That had never happened before.

Submitted by Jessie

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NYPD FAIL, Verbal

The Good Guy vs. The Bad Guys

NOTE: We don’t usually accept second hand stories, but this sweet and observant post from a man working in Soho caught our eye.

I work at 305 Hudson, which is on the corner of Hudson and Canal. Every night, there are a group of traffic cops there directing the traffic into the tunnel. The other night, there was a woman walking a few yards in front of me, crossing Hudson, going east on Canal, and someone was whistling at her. I thought “Oh no, she’s gonna turn around and think it was me”… but it wasn’t me, it was the 4 cops standing looking at her! I would have loved to taken a picture, but that would just have left me beat up on the ground. Good luck, women.

Submitted by Anonymous

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Assault, Stalking, Verbal

Four Train Foot Kicker Foiled Again

This guy was sitting across from me on the train taking up two seats. this was the 4 train around 4 pm on november 24th (08). he started off my incessantly muttering ‘bitches are gonna get it today, bitches are gonna get it today’ and staring / leering at every girl on the train. then he honed in on me, just staring at my face and smiling, licking his lips, mouthing the word ‘bitch’. finally he started leaning across the aisle with his legs trying to trip girls up walking past him, and then started kicking the sole of my foot. i said ‘what’s wrong with you??? stop touching me!’ and i snapped his picture. i don’t think he noticed because i have a touch screen phone that looked like i was playing a game on it.

i ran to the door at my stop but he followed me off at the last second, sneaking through the doors right before they closed. i ran across the platform (at franklin avenue, brooklyn) and asked two teenage high schoolers for help because i thought the guy was going to follow me. so they pretended like they knew me and walked me up the stairs, stopping at the turnstiles to talk to me for a while. all the while this giant creepy f*ck was standing there watching us. finally he got sick of standing there, threw his hands forward and said ‘forget you bitch! i’ll fuck you another time!’

SCARY!

Submitted by A.T.S.

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flashing, public masturbation

Painting the Town Red

Well, this post is about 30 yrs too late, but it was a supreme case of harassment. And nowadays, I’d probably be cited.

I was pregnant with my son at the time taking my alcoholic aunt who had a massive hangover into Manhattan to work. We were at the Borough Hall Station waiting for the train when I had this feeling behind me. Sure as hell, there was this moronic creep exposing and stroking his personals.

My profession at the time was a dancer in the wild and wooly world of topless/bottomless, so this was not a new sight. However, due to the dangerous times we lived in then, before the city got glitzified , to this end I used to carry a small can of red spray paint, along with a few other necessities to ward off overly confident morons who might follow me home after work. Reaching into my coat pocket, I turned around and sprayed this clown’s action, chased him down the platform screaming at him as he jumped on a train going the other way.

The T.A. guy thought it was hilarious, but warned me not to do that again as I might get hurt in response. I was so freaking pissed off. I used the spray paint as it was a good way to identify predators and a bitch to get off or explain. The City was so much more fun then. I miss it.

Submitted by M

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Verbal

Harrassment on the Clock

Just happened- guy harasses me from van- oops, it’s the company van w/phone number. He saw me calling and i watched his face shift from arrogant confidence to sheer panic. Manager apologizes profusely. one point for justice!

-Texted from the streets of New York City

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Verbal

Kissing Contest


I was riding my bike and I stopped in DUMBO to figure out directions on my silly phone, when two guys started making kissy noises from the top of this building. I looked up and I couldn’t see them anywhere, so I just kept waiting for ever-so-slow google maps to load. After two minutes, they were still making kissy noises. Impressive I thought. Eventually one of two things will happen:

1. They will get tired. Making kissy noises is a very exhausting mouth maneuver.

2. They will realize that they are two dudes who have been making kissy noises at some girl who oh-so-far away for extended periods of time, their masculinity will come into question, and they will go back to drinking their beers quietly.

This little social experiment lasted for a full five minutes, with no conclusion. Finally, I gave up and left to a chorus of “Oh no don’t leave! Come back baby!” Wow.

Submitted by Emily

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Verbal


I have a passionate love affair with my neighborhood. I know most folks by face, if not by name, and and I’m addicted to the small town feeling that I’ve secured in big, big Brooklyn.

The other night I was walking home and some dude was standing outside of one of those odd private party club places. He said, “there’s a party in there, you should come in and dance with me.” I laughed warmly, looked over at the man that I didn’t recognize but assumed I’d met before at some point, and said “no thanks.”

As I made my way halfway down the block I heard “fucking bitch!” Not in my neighborhood, buddy. Choosing between the delightful options of this big city girl crushing his small town balls or snapping this picture, I decided to Hollaback.

Submitted by Emily

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