Assault, groping, Verbal

And You Thought Carnies Were Scary…

First, I’m SO glad to see a site like this! I hate being harassed, by men and women both. It’s degrading and insulting, and for me started when I was eight. But this one is about my first truly awful experience.

The reason I’m writing is because of something that happened a few month before MY THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY and I just can’t not say anything anymore. It’s time for me to finally holla back.

I was working a game on a carnival for the weekend (parents permission of course, the people that owned the game were friends of the family) and it was getting late. I was sitting there talking with another woman (“Lizzy”) working that game, waiting for someone to play. Two men in their mid to late 20′s asked how much it was to win a prize. Lizzy told them how many points it’d take, etc, the whole time this guy was looking me up and down. Everyone knows that feeling of being undressed with a look. This guy was a pro. Needless to say, this freaked out my 12 yr old self pretty bad. I avoided eye contact, I did my very best to let him know I wasn’t interested. Obviously I didn’t have much experience at the time with jackoffs like this.

Then he said something in Spanish. Lizzy tilted her head and asked him to say it in English. He then POINTED AT ME, AND ASKED HOW MUCH FOR ME! I felt my face flush deep red and looked away, scared out of my mind. Lizzy was obviously a bit stunned and tried to make it into a joke.

He then played the game a few times, by the time he left, I was watching someone else play with my back the crowd, when I felt the most creepy experience I can remember. I had hair down to my hips at that time and felt a hand go through my hair and down my back// <![CDATA[
D(["mb","
, by the time I realized what happened and turned around, \nI saw the son of a bitch walking away.

\n

\n

I wish I\'d known then what I know now. I wish I had had the guts to tell \nhim exactly what to do with himself. It was an extremely degrading experience \nfor a little girl. Lucky for me, I\'ve gotten better at telling a guy to fuck \noff. Still very disturbing knowing that men like that are still out \nthere are men that are such cowards they victimize little girls.

\n

\n

~Marie

\n\n",0] ); D(["ce"]);
// ]]>, by the time I realized what happened and turned around, I saw the son of a bitch walking away.

I wish I’d known then what I know now. I wish I had had the guts to tell him exactly what to do with himself. It was an extremely degrading experience for a little girl. Lucky for me, I’ve gotten better at telling a guy to fuck off. Still very disturbing knowing that men like that are still out there are men that are such cowards they victimize little girls.

Written by Marie.

no comments 
Assault, groping

Friends Don’t Let Friends Harrass Women

i’m an american who recently moved to tallinn, estonia. i was surprised to find that it’s rare for men to harass women on the street here. apparently, this does not apply in bars. my friend and i were at the counter ordering our drinks when a man seated at a nearby table reached out and grabbed my friend’s ass. she was in shock so i turned around and said, “hey, that’s not cool” then addressed his friends (the guy was trashed) “please control your friend.” we turn back to the bar and drunk guy makes like he’s going for attempt #2 so i turn around and say in a slightly more direct tone, “back off!” as we’re paying for our drinks, drunk guy grabs my friend’s ass again! i’m not in the mood for negotiations at this point so i turn around and yell, “keep your fucking hands off her, asshole!” and to his friends i say, “control your fucking friend.” in response, drunk guy tries to say something and stand but winds up just falling backwards in his chair. we take this as our cue to grab our drinks and go. bastard.

written by trudee.

no comments 
Assault

Nobody Wants to be a Subway Model

So, Toronto is the setting of this disturbing story. I am sitting on the subway with a friend, minding my own business and nobody else’s. This guy on one of those motor wheelchairs comes on the train and stops right in the middle of the aisle in front of the doorway, facing me, and me facing another way so that he could see the profile of my face, not my whole face. So I’m talking, when my friend starts saying weird stuff, like ‘look at me’ and ‘wait, wait, stay like that,’ which really confused me. When the wheelchair guy finally drove past me and away (staring at me with a weird smile before he left,) my friend turned to me and told me that this guy just took a picture of me with his camera. I was in pure shock, because on the news there was a segment about men who go around taking pictures of females on subways… I hope it was a good picture though… Peace

written by Anya

no comments 
Assault, Stalking

Pretty in Pink

I live in the crazy college town of Madison, WI. In preparation for Halloween, I took the bus to the mall and got some costume elements. I got off the bus on State Street, only to hear a male voice, “Hey, pink-hair girl!” (My hair is not, in fact, pink, it’s bright red.) But I stop and wait for the man to catch up (I can’t really remember what he looked like anymore) thinking that I had forgotten something on the bus. So he comes up to me and says, “I just wanted to say that I admired you.” Predictably, I’m like, “What for?” He says, “With all the diversity on that bus…you weren’t intimidated or anything.” I am not entirely sure what he means by this, especially since his explanation was far less concise than I have made it, but realize it’s a compliment and thank him, although I’ve started walking home by now and am getting vaguely worried at the way he’s following me. He asks if I’m in a hurry, and suddenly he becomes something more sinister than a guy with poor social skills. I tell him I have to go home and walk away very fast.

no comments 
Assault, Verbal

Let Me Count the Reasons

You’d thinking riding a bike around a small, mostly farming community in Ohio(county population sits around 53,000) that a gal would be fairly safe.

I followed all the biking rules, including the lesser known one meant for women, the one about not wearing a head set so you can hear the ensuing attacker hiding in bushes.

I should have forgotten that last tid bit and worn headphones anyway because of the constant harassment of whistling, honking horns, and many a suggestive, “Hey baby, ride that thing!”

I rode through lots of stop signs, red lights, and even on the wrong side of the street to avoid creeps who wanted to follow me and continue their harassment unabated.

When it became too much I started forsaking myself the (cough cough) safety of town for country roads.

The decision worked well, at first, there was plenty of peace and quiet, the beautiful landscape of farm country, no hooting and hollering or comments made about my getting it on with the bike.

Then I was hit by a car.

Fortunately, I didn’t end up road kill or smeared across a windshield, just thrown into a ditch. No major injuries, but I was pretty shook up.

The real icing on the cake was that the asshole didn’t even bother to stop, not even a glance in his rearview mirror!

I wish to this day I’d gotten the plate number instead of the back of his head forever seared into my memory.

This happened a little more than ten years ago and I’ve not ridden my bike since; unless you count a few loops in my driveway, and to this day my family believes I won’t ride my bike because of getting hit by a car.

Well, that’s one reason out of two!

Written by Beth

Thanks for the awesome picture Beth!

no comments 
Assault

They Can’t Stop Stair-ing!

I spent my college years in Boston and had an apartment in Kenmore Square. I was coming home from my summer job as a hostess and began to wearily climb the steep steps from the T station up to the street. After the third or fourth step I heard the familiar sound of a polaroid camera –click-whirrrr. I whipped around in time to catch a textbook creepy-looking pervert pulling his camera back toward him after having stuck it under my mini-skirt to get a crotch shot. (I was wearing underwear, thank god.) He fled and I hurried the rest of the way up the stairs to relative safety. It was so disturbing and so close to where I lived that I felt I had to report the incident. I called the campus safety office and was asked to come in to go through a book of mug shots. Apparently, this guy was a bigger problem than I had originally thought. I don’t know if they ever caught him, but almost ten years later it still turns my stomach to think about those few seconds.

A similar thing happened when I was in Bangkok a couple of months ago–only this time I was descending a staircase to the street from an overpass, and there they were, two shifty, watery eyes aimed up my skirt and between my legs. He concentrating so hard on getting a good look, he didn’t even know I watched him the whole time!

Written by Andrea

no comments 
Assault, groping

Crotchedy Old Man

One day, a year or so ago, I was walking along 11th or 12th street, right off Broadway with Suzanne. We were happily chatting away after having done some shopping, or some activity of that ilk.

Then, a crazy old hobo man passes by, and as he does, grabs my crotch and says, “Fucking cunt!”

I was too shocked to say or do anything. Moments after, it felt so unreal. Could that really have just happened, out in public?

He wasn’t in his right mind anyway, but god men can be such assholes!

written by Christine.

no comments 
Assault, Verbal

Chocolate Chip Cookies

The other day I had a need to bake some cookies. Without a decent cookie sheet, I took the necessary trip to the store–mere steps from my house. Whilst passing the local Chinese place, some guy whistled that classic whistle. You know, the one that goes “wheeeet wheeeew!”

I turned around, saw the dude looking at me, and gave him the big, unmistakable
finger.

Yet, he persisted, mumbled, almost incoherently–even sheepishly– “I wanna lick your pussy. . . “

I held The Finger until I entered the store. Feeling relief, I carried forth on my mission, and obtained the necessary baking implement.

Upon payment, I wondered if said jerk-off reamined outside. He had, apparently, taken his spring rolls and split, but not without an extra-awesome serving of my finger.

–anna

no comments 
Assault, Verbal

Tales of a Female Gas Jockey 1

I used to work at a gas station. Being a female gas jockey is just a recipe for disaster, as I found out in my year-and-a-half on the job.

I approach a truck to ask what the guy wants. He’s sitting there, sucking away at a lollipop. Guy looks kinda greasy, looks like trouble. But I figure it’s not at all fair to judge him beforehand, so I go up and give him the usual speech. (“Hi there, what can I get for you?” and so on) He looks down at me. He slo-o-o-wly removes the lollipop from his mouth and smirks. Then he speaks. “Wanna suck?”
I walked away before I could do him violence.

So for all you ladies out there in “male-dominated” jobs who get harassed on a constant basis – I feel you! Stick it out, and if you can, snap their pictures and get them back!

written by Angela.

no comments 
Assault, Verbal

I was waiting for you to open your legs

I was on the F train going to Brooklyn. This man next to me was staring, like boring holes into the side of my face staring. So I got up and moved to another seat. He got up and moved to sit across the aisle from me, STARING.

At this point I’m just ignoring him, not talking, not looking, knowing he was going to follow me. We get to Jay St and I wait to get off the train until right before the doors close, so he wouldn’t follow me. But old dirty man figured it out and just as I was walking out of the train doors, he stands next to me and says so no one else can hear: “I was waiting for you to open your legs.”

Written by Amina

no comments 
Page 15 of 16« First...10«1213141516»
Powered by WordPress