public masturbation

Masturbate and run, East Village lurker

I moved to NYC last spring and, in between apt viewings, was grabbing a slice of pizza with my mother at the Two Boots in the East Village.  We were in a booth seat and I noticed a creepy guy outside the window on a bike staring at me for what felt like forever.  I finally craned my neck to see what he was doing and caught him with his penis out, masturbating while staring at me.  I reacted by standing up and immediately telling the manager of the pizza joint what was going one.  He rushed to the door but the guy had already taken off on his bike.  (His strategy of course is to do this on the bike so that he can get away ASAP after being caught).  The only positive was the amazing manager of the pizza place who apologized and told me that if I ever saw that guy again around there to let him know and he’d regulate.  I felt very violated and my hands were shaking and I was so angry.  Not to mention my poor mother was in from out of town and this was her first impression of the East Village.  Not cool!  It was so violating.  I ended up finding a place in the East Village and live here full time now and have seen this creep on the bike riding around since…he definitely lurks in the neighborhood.

Again, I applaud that woman for sticking up for herself and am glad that her offender was caught!

Submitted by East Villager

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The Movement

Monday Advocacy to restore City Funding–Please Help!

Due to budget cuts, the city is planning to reduce its Runaway and Homeless Youth expenditures by almost a million dollars this year.  Street Outreach Services will be reduced by half and completely eliminated next year.  Among the agencies affected is the Ali Forney Center, one of Hollaback!’s partners in New Yorkers for Safe Transit.

Balancing the budget on the backs of NYC’s most vulnerable youth is unacceptable.  Citywide, 3,800 teens are homeless; among those 3,800 forty percent are LGBTQ youths. Forty percent!  If we want to walk the walk of Dan Savage’s “It gets better” campaign, we have to provide the resources to make “better” possible.

It’s time to take action.  On Monday, December 6 at 2pm the City Council is holding hearings on the proposed budget cuts at City Hall.  This is an opportunity to have our voices heard, to voice opinions and concerns about the budget cuts. For more information, or if you have any questions, please call LGBT Liaison, Erik Bottcher, at 212 788 5646.

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Verbal

Don’t touch the hawk or the hips

I live in NYC, and have experienced street harassment many times, both here and in other cities. However, the past few years have mostly been pretty free of issue, since I have a fairly tough ‘don’t mess with me’ aura. I’m rather more aggressive with strangers now, and men in general, especially after I was sexually assaulted by the host of a party I was at.

And none of it (the street harassment) really scared me. It pissed me off, but I kind of dealt with it. I figured, I was in public, so I was ok. And considering the man who assaulted me was someone I knew, I was aware that strangers aren’t necessarily the biggest danger or worry.

However, a few months ago, over the summer, I was coming home kind of late. I got to my bus stop in around midnight, 12:30. It was a weekend, so plenty of people were there, as usual, and my specific stop is right in front of a deli that I go in quite a bit.

This night, there was some (possibly) drunk guy there, bugging people. I ignored him, and was watching a movie on my ipod in the line for the bus. This guy came RIGHT up to me and invaded my personal space, asking about what I was watching. I put up and arm and told him to back off, and he did for a bit. But then he started trying to come closer, and saying things like ‘hey mohawk, hey!’ and then saying ‘I just want to put my hands on your hips baby, just want to put my hands on your hips.’.

I tried to ignore him, but then he actually tried to touch my hair (the side of my hawk was nicely fuzzy. Lots of people thought they could try to touch my head…) and to touch my waist/hips! I got so pissed off, I backed up, put up my hands and yelled at him to back the f- off and leave me alone, or else. (I had pepper spray on me, but I’d rather not use it if I don’t have to.) He didn’t, and I moved further down the line, closer to the deli. He tried to come closer and I glared at him, and then he went into the deli. My bus came a bit later, and I went home. But I was both scared, and pissed off. There were TWELVE men in that line with me, and others around. I was the only woman there. Now, I don’t expect other people to fight my battles for me, but seriously, not ONE person was willing to step up and say something to this guy. I was really scared going home, and I didn’t like that this guy knew what bus I was getting on. He hung out at the subway station near the stop for a few weeks after that, but either he didn’t remember me, or decided not to bother me again. Wish I knew about this site/movement before, so I could have have photoed him and holla’dback.

Submitted by Wendy.

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Verbal

Dear taxi cab driver, I will report you

Dear Taxi Cab Driver:

Hitting on me while I am confined in your car is fucking frightening.

Driving dangerously with anger when I am doing my best to ignore you and pretend to rifle through my blackberry is also fucking frightening.

Accusing me of smoking in your vehicle, when I am not a smoker, and then trying to use that as a base of conversation is asinine.

No, I didn’t tip you. Yeah, I called your company. That card you demanded I take sure did come in handy.

Asshole.

Submitted by RR

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