What makes me feel good (Hint: it isn’t you, Mr. Harasser)

Walking west to doctor appointment, pervert stopped to ogle my body as I wondered what could be up with my crazy cramps. Then the beginnings of something perverted beginning with “fuck” trickled out of his mouth but I didn’t wait to hear his poetic vision because I turned so abruptly around to face him and so loudly and angrily shouted HEY! MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS PERVERT! that passersby on the other side of the street stopped to watch and the man jumped. I heard him shouting “bitch” after he gathered his senses as I continued on. A real comedian, too, in addition to being a poet, I guess, because most people would find it funny that someone who just muttered obscenities to a stranger in the street with two young children standing nearby would get angry for being called out on his shit but what do I know. I apologized to the mother of the two young children but the look on her face told me she understood and she just laughed and said don’t worry don’t worry I know. For such a high powered incident I was almost amazed my heart wasn’t racing afterwards but I’m coming to realize that it only races when I walk on and don’t say something to the street turds who harass. When I turn around, confront them, and let them know what’s up I feel pretty good.

Submitted by Ursula

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