I was staying in shelters when I was 18 and I would read the newspaper inside cafes until the shelter opened up at night. One morning a sailor from out of town who had been out all night clubbing asked to sit down at my table. After a ten min conversation not only had he suggested that I “party” with him but made unwelcome comments about my tongue ring, called me a bitch when I refused him. He ripped the paper out of my hand and crumpled it on the ground giving me a death glare. Creep.
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