Grace’s Story: Telling It Like It Is

Drunk guy in bar harassing my friends. Friends looked at their shoes and tried to stop interaction by not responding. Drunk guy touched my friend inappropriately. I turned him around by his shoulder and grabbed his hand.

Me: Hey man, what’s your name?
Him: ____.
Me: Nice to meet you, ___.
Him: I like you. You’re nice to me. They’re being ******.
Me: No, you’re just bothering them and they don’t like it. So you need to stop that now.
Him: Let me show you a picture.
Me: No, I don’t need to see that. You need to go away or I’m telling someone to get you out of here.

Interaction stopped! Did I have to see a cell phone picture of his junk in order to get him to go away? Yes. Did any other larger, more capable, male-gendered (therefore viewed as more threatening and worthier of respect) person in the bar – of which there were PLENTY – try and help me out? No!
But did the guy go away and stop touching my friends?
YES.
Yes he did.

I've got your back!
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