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While waiting for my fiancee to exit a retail establishment, I was standing on the sidewalk at this intersection somewhat a ways back from the street and close to the entrance of a residential building. It was nighttime and dark out, although the area seemed safe.
A man approached to enter the building and told me how pretty I was making the entrance area appear. I’m ashamed to admit that I snapped at him and told him “that’s a rude thing to say.” I’m ashamed because he was paying a compliment, but even though he said it in a nice tone his intentions to hit on me were very clear. That’s why I snapped.
I feel very conflicted about the encounter. On one hand I did not desire this man’s attention and it was not appropriate for him to just come out and say this especially to a lone female at night. However, he said it in a nice way and was, at the end of the day, complimenting me and there was no tone of contempt there as there would be with a catcaller or harasser.
I just want to cleanse myself from this encounter by releasing it out into the world, and saying “I’m sorry” to this gentleman, for snapping at him, but also I’m not sorry because you should not hit on a lone woman at night in passing, no matter how pretty she is making your building entrance look. It’s unwanted attention you’re paying to her, whether it’s with the best of intentions or not.
Thank you for listening.
To the man at the bus stop,
I guess I don’t know how to say, “please leave me alone” in a way that you will understand. Please stop talking to me.
“If it weren’t sacred – your relationship – would you go to dinner with me?”
No. I will not go to dinner with you. It’s not because my relationship is sacred – and it is – but that doesn’t prevent me from going to dinner with people. What prevents me from going to dinner with you is that I’m not interested.
“Not interested? How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”
Well, sir, I guess I’m not that interested in getting to know you. Because you opened this conversation by asking me how pretty I think I am. And then, while looking my body up and down, you told me how much you thought I was worth. A dollar amount. As if I could be bought. As if I would be more willing to go to dinner knowing you think I’m worth more than a car. Thanks, but no thanks.
“Would you rather go to dinner with me or do drugs? Would you rather kiss me or take a drag off a cigarette? Your boyfriend doesn’t love you, you know.”
Neither. None of those. Because your options are not real options. Because that is not the reality of the situation. Because you don’t decide what my options are. And because when you got up in my face like that and started yelling, I almost hit you and yelled back, but you aren’t even worth that. You aren’t even worth eye contact.
When you left, I felt sick with relief. But I still feel sick – with disgust – because you exist out there and you talk to women like they’re sh*t. So f*ck you, you delusional f*ck.
– The kind of girl you’ll never have
I was walking with two of my friends down SoHo and we were into deep conversation about something, definitely not paying attention to our surroundings and the people in the street with us. Suddenly, we notice a man walking in our direction, rudely about to walk through us. As he was getting closer, we realized that he was determined to not change his direction and walk around us so naturally we let him walk in between us. Suddenly he creepily mumbles to us “Eat each others’ pussies…” We all looked at each other like “What did this guy just say?” We were all in shock that this just came out of his mouth. We all look back at him and he was, surely enough, looking back at us, winking. It was a very disturbing experience. And it scares me that this guy thought it was totally okay to say this to us. I don’t know what he expected to get out of saying that, but I can only imagine all of the other disturbing things he’s said to other girls.
I was walking with my friends and an old man pulls on my arm, trying to talk to me. I said immediately after, in an angered tone, “Please don’t touch me.” He then started following me and my friends for two blocks in which we preceded to walk faster. I was shocked to think that this man would have the audacity to assault me with the police less than 20 feet away, I was even more shocked that the cops did nothing about it.
I was on my way home from picking up Chinese food on 134th street. I tried to cut the corner because everyday men young and old stand outside of Popeyes talking to and eyeing every girl who passes by. I passed by a silver Escalade waiting at the traffic light and the man in the passenger side said “psst, can I talk to you.” I rushed by, hearing his words, but ignoring them. Everyday I find myself listening to music so I can avoid the catcalls from men old enough to be my father.
About a month ago, I was on my way home returning from my school’s volleyball practice. I had just gotten off of the bus, and I was walking the first of two blocks to my house. On my way, I noticed a man had gotten on at the same bus stop at me, and gotten off at the same one, too. I already felt nervous. I was walking a little faster than I normally would have, trying to make it home.
He had sped up a little bit, too. When I got to the corner of the block that my house is on, I heard him give me a catcall. I was immediately freaked out. He kept calling, and started into a jog to catch up to me, as I was half a block ahead of him. I sprinted to the fire-station next to my house. I waited in the office there with the firemen who had been next door my entire life. When he saw me run there, he turned around, and went around the corner. Just to be safe, I sprinted next door, buzzed myself in, and made sure I didn’t go anywhere alone for the next week.
2 years ago, when I was 12 years old, I was walking to meet my friend. It was summer, and so I put on a pair of tight jean short-shorts. I felt sexy and beautiful and like I could conquer the world. I felt so good.
I was walking past a florist’s shop when an old man outside gave me a catcall. I spun around, staring at him. I couldn’t believe what he had just done. It was the first acknowledgement of being “sexy” or “hot” before. And it was from an old man who was wearing a wedding ring.
I didn’t know what else to do but continue walking. I felt myself to start to tear up and feel brought down. I couldn’t help but feel violated. Ashamed. I knew my shorts were short, but were they really that short? I kept thinking that it was my fault. That I was asking for it, that I was the reason I was being catcalled. And that if I wanted to dress like how I was dressing, I couldn’t dress like that.
When I got to the place I was meeting my friend, I changed in the bathroom into something more conservative. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to feel that way again.
Now, I realize that my shorts or my legs or my ass shouldn’t mean that someone should look at me, violate me, and make me feel ashamed.
A man came up to me while I was standing on the subway, put his hand on my hip and said to me “your European aren’t you ? I can tell because in Europe the women are taught to be so sensual in nature.”
I crossed the street with the pedestrian light, but this pickup truck was rolling into the crosswalk so I waved as I walked by. He honked at me, so I turned around and he was flipping me off, I flipped him off, and he used his hand and tongue to gesture fellatio. I yelled “Really?”, and he continued to flip me off and put his hands in his mouth in lewd ways. I don’t know what he was saying because I was listening to headphones, and then flipping him off and walking away.
You don’t know me. You don’t know how my day has been going. You don’t know why I am at the bar with my friends, and you certainly have no business making judgements based on my facial expressions. You could have tried to not be an ass and actually struck up conversation, but if you are just going to open with “Smile!” you will get nothing more than a glare.
I’m not going to smile for your male-privileged approval. Stop wasting your time.