My first two years of college I went to an all-women’s liberal arts school in the midwest. Boys loved to drive down the main road that goes right through the middle of campus. There’s a lot of catcalling involved, they revved their trucks up a bunch. Even today I catch myself flipping off anyone who honks at me out of habit.
My best friend and I were walking down the street to get McDonald’s around nine or ten at night. A car full of boys spotted us on the sidewalk, yelled from their windows and sped off only to turn around again on the next street. They passed us again and said “show us some skin!” and again “take it off!” By this point they had a megaphone from some high school that wasn’t Nevada’s. The fourth time, they threw change at us and sped off for the final time. Yes, change. Nickels, pennies, dimes. The rest of our trip consisted of rage and a faster pace.
We were Cottey girls, very confident and proud to be women. There was nothing we could’ve done in that situation, the only escape were unlighted back streets. I felt vulnerable, unsafe and pissed off there was nothing I could do about it, except tell my story. But believe me, if i had ANYTHING to throw at them I’d have scared the bastards past Kansas City.
Nevada isn’t full of jerks, just like all guys aren’t jerks. Being an asshole has nothing to to with gender, just your sole ability to be an asshole.
I was walking with a local guy friend of mine at night back to the school from town. A police officer stopped us and questioned him. He asked where we had been and where we were going.
“I’m taking her back to the girl’s school..”
The officer looked at me and asked “Willingly?” No sarcasm hinted, no smile. Dead serious.
He said goodnight and drove off. It’s sad the officer assumed he was a bad person because he was alone with a girl at night.
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