I have accepted that public transportation in my city is less than ideal, but my job is good and I don’t have a car, so I deal with it.
On the way home, I noticed a guy injecting what I hope was insulin into his belly with a large syringe. He was doing it with some difficulty and the syringe was waving around. I was horrified that he had a needle on the bus and couldn’t take my eyes off it. He took this to mean that I found him irresistible. He handed me a slip of paper with his name and phone number on it and said,”call me sometime.” I nodded and slipped it in my bag, not knowing what to do.
A few stops later, he sat in the seat next to mine, asked what time it was, and touched the arm closest to him when I answered. As a person who needed my front of the bus seat more than I did got on the bus, I moved back a bit and sat next to a small girl, but the guy didn’t let up. I got off the bus at my stop and noticed he did as well. He followed me halfway down the block toward my house, not riding his bike quickly, just fast enough to keep up with my gait. He finally got bored and turned around and left, but I was shaken the rest of the way home. Does being a woman mean I have to put up with that kind of s— just by taking the bus?
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