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This morning, I took the L train. I had just come from having a wonderful cup of coffee at cute bakery near my boyfriend’s apartment. I was happy when I headed home, though I was mildly annoyed by the ever-jarring automated voice that narrates subway travel.
I was almost home when we stopped at the Lorimer stop and the train doors opened. I saw a man standing on the platform turn around and pull his penis out. He smiled at me and waved it in my direction.
The ever-jarring voice then became my savior. “Stand clear of the closing doors, please,” it said it in it’s non-change human-esque manner.
The man put his “personals” back in and stepped back quickly and creepily smiled at me.
He was lucky that time.
This is the second time I’ve been flashed this year. I’ve been licked by strangers, verbally assualted, holla’ed at, and groped by countless people.
When my son moved out of the Brook Army Medical Center in San Antonio Texas, he decided to adopt a cat from the local Humane Society. The entire time we are there, this fat white guy wearing a woman’s wig and clothing, follows us from place to place. When my son wheels (he was in a wheelchair at the time) into one of the glass booths to see if he and one of his kitty choices gets along, this creep, goes into the booth directly in front of my son. smiles at him, then bends his fat ass towards my sons face where this enormous blood spot is right in the crack of his ass! After we get an eye full and pull our mouths up from the ground, this freak stands upright, looks at us with a big grin on his face then leaves. I don’t know what it meant, but it was very vulgar. This person is clearly a pervert!
I was headed home to Brooklyn for the day at about 2:30 p.m. after finishing a final exam at school in Manhattan. I was listening to a podcast and briefly closed my eyes between Rector and Whitehall. When I opened my eyes, there was a man sitting directly across from me (no other passengers were seated in this section of the train) masturbating with his genitals completely outside of his pants. His eyes were nearly closed. I got up and got loud, shouting, “What the are you doing jerking off in front of me?! That’s disgusting!” He got up and headed to the door at the other end of the car. I was so glad that a large, middle-aged man near where I had walked to in the car looked at me and said he had seen what happened. I told the man I didn’t want to let the guy get away, and he offered to help me. We walked to where the perpetrator was standing and stood right behind him. As soon as the doors opened at Whitehall, the perp bolted, and the fellow commuter and I flew after him.
I reached the perp first and grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, bringing him down on the stairs. Three men helped me detain him on the stairs until the transit cop FINALLY came 10 minutes later. During that 10 minutes, the perp pleaded with me to let him go and to think of his family, he also kept trying to get away, but he knew he was too outnumbered to really make a run for it. Once the cop came, the other men departed. After a few minutes, the perp tried to get away from the cop by jumping the turnstile. I ran after him and grabbed him from behind by the belt, bringing him down to the ground. He resisted arrest, but the cop was finally able to handcuff him and he was arrested and taken into custody for public drunkenness and lewdness and I gave a formal statement to the police at the nearest substation.
I felt so good about not just keeping my mouth shut and letting this pervert get away with it. Even if nothing much happens to him, I feel happy with my decision to take action. On a side note, it was completely ridiculous to have to wait for 10 minutes for the transit cop to arrive. I also had to clearly state to the cops that I wanted to press charges against the guy, rather than them just giving him a warning.
Is flashing and chasing a form of ‘stalking’? I’m not sure, but this happened many years ago in Glen Burnie when I used to walk and jog around in my neighborhood between Southgate and Old Mill. It is three separate instances, not sure if they are related but they all happened within months of each other. This was also pre-cell phones – in the early 80’s. The first incident was at the baseball fields in Old Mill/Southgate park – my friend and I were walking by and a man was apparently sunbathing naked – with a full erection – on one of the benches. We were 15 years old and looked at each other and giggled, and quickly walked away. The man never acknowledged us or moved. The second incident was a man emerging from a wooded area that bordered Shetlands Lane, near the Old Mill football field. He had his pants down and some kind of long jacket that he actually flashed open as I was walking by – he was about 20 yards away, so I turned around and pointed at his ‘display’ and started laughing as hard as I could. He closed his jacket and turned back into the woods. The third incident was somewhat scarier. I used to jog along the path next to the football stadium as it was right next to where I lived. The path was wooded on one side opposite the stadium and dipped down into a gulley at one point. While jogging on this path – and right at the point where it dipped down, I heard footsteps behind me and turned my head to see a man, with his pants down around his knees, running behind me. I outran him and was fortunately close to home and immediately told my Dad. He grabbed a sledge hammer from the shed and went looking for the guy, but fortunately I suppose, didn’t find him. These were not the only times I was flashed or approached by a man with an erection on display. After the first time, walking home from school and a young man came up to me on the wooded path to ask what time it was – with his pants down – I punched him in the face, ran home and called the police. They could do nothing and actually asked me to describe his penis – I was 13 or 14 years old. After that – I never reported these incidents to the police again. There was obviously a serious problem in that area with sex offenders and I don’t know if anyone (though I’m sure it did happen to someone) was ever actually assaulted. I was lucky, very lucky and wasn’t afraid to embarrass the perpetrator or even defend myself physically. Now that we have electronic media in everyone’s hands, though, and stricter laws regarding sex offenders – hopefully these types of incidents will be ‘exposed’ and girls (or boys, either) won’t be preyed upon.
I was studying in Cairo for the summer, trying to improve my not-so-great Arabic. A few weeks into our time there, my roommate and I decided to go for a shop in the marketplace in the middle of the day.
Both of us had been making a conscious effort while in Egypt to dress conservatively – loose trousers, baggy shirts, nothing “provocative” by Egyptian standards. (Something that quite a few Western tourists never bother doing). In our naivety, we assumed that by dressing in a culturally respectful way, we would be treated respectfully.
Anyways, we were walking through the marketplace when this man began following us, muttering sexually suggestive phrases in Arabic at us (never imagining, I’m sure, that both of us understood full well what he was saying). We ignored him, darting in and out of shops to try and shake him off. He just hung around outside them, waiting for us to come out.
Eventually, he came up behind me and began rubbing his pelvis against me, and groping my butt. I managed to shake free of him, and then he did the same to my roommate. Unbelievably, he came up behind me AGAIN to try for another feel, at which point I elbowed him as hard as I could in the stomach. As I turned around, I saw him looking at me with this expression of mingled fury and hurt – as though somehow, he’d been doing me a tremendous favour, and I was the one behaving outrageously.
Another time, early in the morning, I had a guy follow me for about an hour. He followed me all the way to my classes, leering, catcalling, calling me a whore in Arabic – all at 8 o’clock in the morning. All I had done was hold a door open for him as I went out of a coffee shop.
I’m sure everyone now is aware of just how bad the sexual harassment problem in Egypt is, but I just want to go on record as having said the following: it doesn’t matter what you wear, it doesn’t matter if you speak any Arabic, it doesn’t matter how many people you’re with, and it doesn’t matter what time of day it is. If you’re a woman in Cairo (particularly a Western woman), men will follow you, make comments, and call you a whore – and it has to stop.
I was walking along Greenwich High Road a couple of days ago, it was the hottest day of the year so far but I wasn’t wearing anything particularly revealing (jeans, t shirt and cardigan) when a guy stopped in front of me and said “Hey, sweet tits!” I ignored him and walked past. A couple of minutes later a different man, who was riding a bike on the other side of the road, cycled over to where I was, got his penis out and waved it at me, then cycled off (with it still flapping out!) I didn’t really know how on earth to react to that, quite honestly I was wondering how he managed to do that while cycling and imagined what what happen if he fell onto the crossbar which quite frankly I think he would deserve.
I was working at the cafe where I volunteer and it is open very late, from 1am to 6am (meant as a midway place for those who have been out partying and want some food or coffee before going home).
One night I had just said goodbye to the last customers and was shutting up the cafe. I went to close the shutters which involves going into a small room that you can see into from the street and using a key to lower them.
Two men walked past the window as I was closing the shutters. They asked if they could come in and I explained we were shut. They then asked if I would come out with them, to which I replied that I was busy. They both started kissing the glass and trying to get me to come out of the cafe and kiss them (luckily the front door was locked so they couldn’t get in).
After a few seconds one of the men unzipped his pants and took his penis out and wiggled it at me whilst shouting lewd comments to me. His mate just laughed and mimed touching my tits.
I was utterly disgusted, I looked at this pathetic worm and gestured that his package was tiny so he started swearing and banging on the glass. I was genuinely scared as the bouncer had gone home by this point. I thought about calling the police but the men ran off when I took my phone out.
That I couldn’t do anything was the worst thing, though I was scared about what they’d have done if they could have reached me.
I was a teenage at the time, 13 years old, and walking down the beach with a girl friend of the same age when we saw a man on a sand dune. He wore boots and a t-shirt, and nothing else, with an erection visible from where we stood. My friend went white, I don’t know what went into my mind but instead of fear I felt a weird kind of anger, more like stubborness than fury. And as that guy strutted down the dune staring at us I screamed at him: ‘Pathetic!’
The guy stopped. I think it must have been the first time he ever had a victim rebel. By that time I was wound up and continued screaming things like ‘ridiculous’ and ‘minuscule’, my friend took heart and started screaming and laughing hysterically with me. The guy turned heel and ran back up to disappear behind the dune. I learned later that he had been terrorizing girls for months.
My first holla, and my first lesson in dealing with sexual harassers. If you let them get away with it they win. That was years ago but I still hold it true.
Taking the R train home from Manhattan this evening, a demented pedophile flashed my 12 year old daughter. We were both playing games on our phones to pass the time, but my very astute daughter noticed the man get on at the 59th St Station in Brooklyn bound for Bay Ridge, when he moved all the way down to our end of the car and sat diagonally across from us.
I am giving the description here so that other girls will be on their guard. He was a young black man, about in his twenties, medium build, and was wearing a black hoodie and light blue jeans over blue plaid boxers and plain black nike type sneakers.
At the 77th St Station he stood up and exited, but immediately turned around to face my daughter and lifted up his hoodie to reveal his penis hanging out of his boxers… TO A 12 YEAR OLD CHILD!
My daughter grabbed my hand and said “Mommy that man showed me his penis”, and as the door closed, he rubbed his parts against the window. By this time I was yelling at him while hiding my daughters face against my shoulder.
We got off at the next stop and ran to the next conductor and he told us to go to the dispatchers office, where they asked if we wanted them to call the police, when we said yes, they promptly called.
My daughter was in shock and visibly shaken at this point and when I wanted to go check the incoming train to see if the man was on it, she was terrified.
The police arrived in about five minutes and my very brave daughter gave an excellent description. While they were attentive, I had to offer my number for them to contact us if by some slim chance they caught the pedophile. One officer said that we would have to go to Coney Island to file a complaint and I said no problem.
While I know this is a reality, and it has happened to me many, many times in this city, I never expected it to happen to my daughter at such a young age. As she has just recently started taking the subway to school, I have begun to caution her on how to best protect herself when I am not with her. I just never anticipated that some sick p.o.s. would be so bold as to flash her while she was right next to me. Lesson learned, I will never be off my guard again when she is with me.
Submitted by Pissed off Mom
For years I was continually getting “flashed”—in parking lots, libraries, through a window I happened to pass! This happened every couple years from the time I was 14 or 15. My typical response was shock, shame, disgust, and humiliation. I’d bury my face in my hands and walk quickly away.
At one point I’d had enough. I was in my 30’s (pathetic that it took so long, I know) walking down the street of my home town (to a therapy appointment no less) and this guy across the street in an alley was standing naked holding his overcoat wide open. This time a rush of rage and a power that made me feel like the Medusa welled up in me and I started yelling at the top of my lungs: “How dare you do that to me, you stupid shit! You are sick! For heaven’s sake GO GET HELP!!” He shut up his coat in a flash, spun around, and walked away as fast as he could. I was breathless and shaken when I got to my therapists office and he didn’t seem to understand why I was so upset. I should have called him a stupid shit.
The weird thing: I was NEVER “flashed” again.
This 58 year old loves your website advocating hollering back–and is so heartened to see young women get pissed. Yell your heads off girls!
Submitted by Barbra