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I could hear these two saying vulgar things and laughing as soon as they sat down.
Me: “What can I get you?”
Creep in the green hat: “How about you, sweetheart?”
So I gave them some of me – a big loogie at the bottom of their beers. Cheers, dickheads.
Submitted by Krystal.
Submitted by Jeanette.
Two of my friends and I were coming home from a night of bowling. My friend was driving, her cousin was in the front seat, and I was in back. We pulled up to a red light, laughing about something, and I casually glanced at the car next to us for a split second, where one of the guys in the backseat was pretty much drooling over us. I alerted my friends to this, and they looked over at them, this time to find everyone in the car staring at us. There were four of them, and they were big guys. They kept rolling down their windows and yelling stuff at us, but we ignored them. The light changed, and we drove on, thinking nothing of it.
So we stopped at the next light, and guess who pulled up beside us. We were right by where you needed to turn to get to my house, so I told her to just keep going straight because I didn’t want those idiots on a power trip knowing where I live. She kept going straight, and they stayed right next to us.
This went on for several minutes before she pulled out her cell phone and called her mom. They were still right next to us, and they started acting like they were going to run us off of the road. Her mom told her to call the police if they kept on us, and she said ok. We were in a 40mph zone, and she was doing 30. They stayed right next to us…you could tell they were totally getting off on it.
They eventually went away, and we had to go all the way through Beech Grove to get home.
Submitted by Amanda.
“How are you doing? Hot enough for you?”
I stop, turn around to him and say “Don’t mess with me today.”
“I’m not messing with you.”
I respond, “A lot of women don’t like it when men they don’t know approach
them. It’s very scary and it’s very rude.”
He nods his head and smiles. “Oh, okay. I’m sorry.”
Yesterday I marched in the gay pride parade in NYC, what a blast that was! I felt so sexy all day dressed in a short dress, complete with garter and pink undies, strutting my stuff all over the streets of Manhattan. “Work it girl” and “fabulous” was all I heard all day, and each time it made me beam with pleasure and pride.
Unfortunately, as I was walking home from the night of dancing and fun, I walked by two thirty something white men standing outside a storefront. As if I could smell their chauvinism, I puffed up mychest and accentuated my strut, filled with the pride of the day. One of them called out, “put on some pants.” I turned as I strode past them, giving the guy my middle finger in the most vulgar fashion I could while I met his gaze straight on. After working his jaw a few times he came up with a smugly comeback to my ‘fuck you’ – “You wish you could,” he said.
There are only a few times when I remember my brain actually feeling like it was about to boil over, and this was one of them. I was so angry I think I would have fought him if he had dared. I stopped walking and turned my entire body about face to him and said, in my deep, natural voice, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do, fuck you in your bigoted ass. Yeah, I want to fuck you in your BIGOTED ass.” I continued to stare at him for a few moments. It seemed that he was deciding whether to come after me. I’m not sure why he didn’t – perhaps he could sense how angry I was, or maybe he had just then realized that smear the queer wouldn’t quite work with me since I was definitely bigger than he was. It also probably helped that there were two other people near us on the sidewalk, one woman who nodded her head at me in support and another woman who scurried by, obviously freaked out by the entire situation.
I left the scene with my emotions still flaring, and wondering if I had done the right thing. I hope I gave him something to think about, being called a bigot to his face. That word was so powerful comingout my lips – the powerful truth, more powerful than any fist I think.
I had a second, less dramatic experience later that same night. Walking by the the south end of Tompkins Square park, a straight couple walked passed me. I heard the man hiss something like “fucking fags” as they walked by. “Shut up!” his girlfriend immediately said, in a tone of moral reprehension. Thank you sister, whoever you are, and I hope you let your boyfriend know that if he can’t bear the site of a fag then isn’t gonna be seeing you anymore either.
On 8 June 2006 at about 19.15 I got on a tube (subway) from Wimbledon to Earl’s Court. I went to sit by the connecting door in the carriage, as they have open windows and it was a very hot evening. In London we don’t have air-conditioning on our subway system.
The only such seat was next to a pimply, sweaty lard-arse fatso of about 20, wearing too tight shorts, a stained vest and a baseball cap (yes the perps are always “attractive”, aren’t they….), who was sitting next to the connecting door. He had put his rucksack on the adjoining seat – I realise now to block the rest of the carriage’s view of his intended activities.
He grudgingly moved the bag and I sat down. After several minutes lost in reading a book, I became aware of some movement next to me. The dirty little pig was masturbating through his shorts. Having initially given him the benefit of the doubt (scratching? Too ignorant to know better?) , realised that yes indeed, there was no mistaking what he was doing, and my increasingly outraged stares were not discouraging him. Obviously I looked too respectable to kick up a fuss. His mistake.
So I said loudly: “Could you stop doing that please?” indicating his hand stroking his penis through the crotch material of his shorts. He said “Uh?” so I said even more loudly “Could you please stop playing with yourself”. I wish I’d been able to take his photo, the sad little pervert.
Can you believe that on our local website (www.chiswickw4.com) we have even had a police report of a youth openly masturbating at a local bus stop, in the middle of the afternoon! What is wrong with these people? Are they mentally ill?
Submitted by Jan.
This guy was the king of all creeps.. I don’t know how he even drove with his eyes glued to us. We finally had the unfortunate luck to pull directly behind him and I’m suprised he didn’t rear end someone from looking in the rearview mirror non stop… those beady little eyes in that mirror. Made my skin crawl… All we wanted to do was go home after the Mavs game!
Submitted by Rachel.
These fine young gentleman actually hung their heads out of the car like dogs while we drove by. My sister was terrified, but I was determined to catch up and snap a photos of these beauties. I love how there are like three of them…layer upon layer of perverseness.
Submitted by Rachel.
I hopped on the downtown 6 train tonight at about 7:30. It was a very crowded car, and so of course everybody was bumping up against each other. There was an arm against my rear – or so I thought – so I moved up a couple of inches. Then, there it was again. And again. And again. Eventually I realized that it wasn’t an arm at all – it was a hand that was getting friendlier and friendlier as the train moved from 51st to 42nd. I kept turning around to give him dirty looks, but I think he took that as an invitation! The more I glared, the more the hand stayed put. When we arrived at the next stop, I moved to the far end of the car and snapped these shots. Faces of the innocent have been blurred, of course.
Submitted by Jenny.