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One guy on the R Train has a subway map and pretends to be lost. He asked my friend I for directions and we both noticed his fly was down and he was exposing himself. We first thought it was accidental. We told him we didn’t know how to get to where he was asking, so he then stood across from us leaning on the car doors and still exposing himself. Our stop was next and we got off. We were too appalled to snap a picture and we both were hoping it was an accident and he wasn’t a perv.
A couple weeks after this I was on the R Train by myself. I got up to get off at my stop and as I was stepping out I saw out of the corner of my eye the same guy in the next train doing the same gig with the map. I reached for my phone and went over to the car he was in, but I wasn’t quick enough. I’m basically on a mission to catch this creep. Both times I saw him on the R train it was in the evening.
Submitted by Danielle
Well, this is about 30 yrs too late to be covered under the new law, but it was a supreme case of harassment. And nowadays, I’d probably be cited.
I was pregnant with my son at the time taking my alcoholic aunt who had a massive hangover into Manhattan to work. We were at the Borough Hall Station waiting for the train when I had this feeling behind me. Sure as hell, there was this moronic creep exposing and stroking his personals.
My profession at the time was a dancer in the wild and wooly world of topless/bottomless, so this was not a new sight. However, due to the dangerous times we lived in then, before the city got glitzified , to this end I used to carry a small can of red spray paint, along with a few other necessities to ward off overly confident morons who might follow me home after work. Reaching into my coat pocket, I turned around and sprayed this clown’s action, chased him down the platform screaming at him as he jumped on a train going the other way.
The T.A. guy thought it was hilarious, but warned me not to do that again as I might get hurt in response. I was so freaking pissed off. I used the spray paint as it was a good way to identify predators and a bitch to get off or explain. The City was so much more fun then. I miss it.
Submitted by M
I have been masturbated at on the A and F trains and once on the Q, a man sat next to me, actually grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection. On all three of the occasions, I got up and started cursing, but NO ONE HELPED ME – people looked away or pretended not to hear me. Not even the subway conductors – one of them had the nerve to tell me that it wasn’t his job to help me! I made three police reports but nothing ever happened. HollabackNYC, keep spreading the word and encouraging people to speak up. I am committed to raising my voice!
Submitted by Christine
This pervert rides the V, F, E lines and flashes and does disgusting things to both young girls and women. He likes to sit in the corner 2 seaters so as to be directly in front of his victim(s) when they are alone. He dyes his hair different shades, wears big glasses (as in photo) and likes to carry a large over-the-shoulder bag to conceal his perverted behavior. If you see him feel free to call him a pervert and intimidate him so that he gets off the train because the police can’t do anything about him and unfortunately one cannot beat the crap out of him.
Submitted by Madeline
At around 9:45pm I got on the Q train’s first/last stop at 57th Street heading to Brooklyn. The doors are all closed save for one at the end and only half of the double doors at that. This is normal. All the doors are opened just before the train leaves. It usually sits there for a while until another Q train pulls in. So I’m sitting in the car by myself next to the window reading a book when I hearing someone tapping on the window. I choose to ignore it because something tells me it is trouble. Well this person taps again and again and again. Finally I just turn my back towards the window and pretend to read because I’m nervous by now. What does this person want? The tapping persists until another guy walks in and I think this other person by my window will leave but the tapping continues.
Suddenly, all the doors open and my heart drops. A short sleepy-looking man holding a crumpled piece of newspaper in his hand walks in and sits right by me. I’m thinking that he’s probably a homeless guy asking for money until he removes that piece of newspaper and shows me his penis, hanging out of his pants. Oh so this is why he was trying to get my attention. He makes sure that the other guy, sitting not too far away, doesn’t see what he’s doing by creating a “wall” with that newspaper. I can smell the alcohol on him and he acts so nonchalant, which feeds my anger and indignation.
A few years ago a man in an old Mustang stopped me on the pretense of asking for directions so that I could see him masturbating. When he drove off I remember feeling so disgusted and victimized that I resolved never to let that happen again.
Here was a guy exposing himself to me in a similar situation. So I decided to take action. I had read about women empowering themselves in situations like these by taking pictures of the perpetrator so that gave me strength. I move so that I am sitting directly across from him and took three photos with my cellphone. I then walk quickly out of the train and break into a run to find the train conductor. I find a woman operator and explain my situation. She says something about the police not being around when you need them. I walk with the woman and point out the man with the beret holding the newspaper, who had come out since I left and she suggests I move into her train car. Moments later she comes back in and speaks into the PA system that the next stop will be 42nd Street. The train starts to move and I wonder what happened to the creep. Did the police apprehend him? Then the train operator comes back out and tells me “Thanks miss, that guy didn’t get on this train.” I am baffled. Shouldn’t more be done to stop him? I look out the window as the train pulls away and I see that same creep now sitting on a bench unbeknownst to the people around him.
All I can do is post on this blog for the whole world to see. Ladies, beware.
Submitted by Clara
I got on the 8:20 Manhattan-bound M train Monday morning at the 4th Ave., 9th Street stop and was sitting down, reading the paper like I normally do. A few stops later, a man came on the train, and stood to the left of me next to the doors. I didn’t pay close attention until I saw something in my periphery that was moving. I turned to the left and saw the man’s penis sticking out while he rubbed it. He stared at me the entire time. I jumped up and shouted — WHAT THE F–K ARE YOU DOING? The doors opened and he got out at the Dekalb stop, but stared at me through the doors as the train left the station.
I wish I had my camera out so I could take a picture and show it to the police. I’ve filed reports to the MTA and the police, but who knows if anything will be done. I really want this asshole caught.
Submitted by Kim
I wasn’t able to take a photo, but wanted to write about a recent experience of subway harassment anyway because, as they say, third time’s a charm. I’m referring to the fact that I was recently confronted for the third time in the last decade with a passive aggressive pervert jerking off on the subway, and I finally reacted in a way that I feel good about.
More on that in a minute, but the first thing I want to mention is that each of the three asshats who felt it necessary to flog their flabby little phalluses on public transit were all different in terms of age (one in his early twenties, one seemed to be in his late thirties, and one seemed to be solidly middle-aged, has kids in high school range), geography (one was on the D train in Coney Island, one on the F train not far from Park Slope, and one on the MBTA in Boston) and ethnicity (two were white, one was a man of color), but despite their differences they each wore the exact same sickening, sweaty and totally smug, “what’s getting me off is you being uncomfortable” stare as they groped themselves while trying to lock eyes with me. The smugness is what stood out the most each time — as if what was sexually gratifying to them was women’s inability to stop this harassment.
Anyway, when this happened again it took me totally by surprise, because while I often deal with street harassment whenever I’m in Manhattan and often in various parts of Brooklyn, I’ve almost never dealt with it in my neighborhood in Brooklyn. Here’s what went down. I was standing at the bottom of the steps on the F train platform at 6:30, lots of other people on the platform but no one else near me at the bottom of the stairs. I heard someone from the top of the staircase call out, a “Psst” kind of sound. Instinct caused me to look up the stairs, where I saw a middle aged man beating off, smiling that same smug smirk I remembered from the last two guys I saw do this on subways. My initial five-seconds-after reaction was to instantly turn away, really startled, somewhat frightened and incredibly angry. After those five seconds, though, I realized that this guy had no power over me other than in his mind, and if I didn’t react in a way that took my power back, I’d be mad about it all night, maybe longer. So, I turned back around, looked directly at him and screamed, “Fuck you, asshole! Who do you think wants to see that?” He froze, a fearful dear-in-the-headlights look passed over his face, and he dropped his dick as if it were all of a sudden burning his hand. A second later, he turned and ran away, while I screamed after him, “Yeah, you better run away! Run away like the sad, pathetic, small-penised pervert you are!”
I instantly felt better.
Submitted by Jennifer P.
my friend and i were sitting on the N the other night, heading uptown from 8th street. we both noticed this guy sitting towards the middle of the train, eyeing us as we stepped in, but soon forgot him as we settled into our seats at the end of the train. As we chatted, we noticed somewhat, this guy getting up and walking towards us…nothing really to freak out about at that point, i mean, pretty much anyone except maybe jolly folk from kansas or something will look
sorta creepy on the train late at night….
anyways, i soon noticed that this guy had his sorry excuse for a penis hanging out of his pants, hidden on one side by a black garbage bag, so that only we could see what he was doing… i’m a firm believer in reminding flashers that not only is it wrong to flash women, but that there are women out there who will whoop their scrawny little asses if they disrespect them like that… so i proceeded to curse him out, in a loud enough voice for everyone to hear how pathetic and perverted he was. i walked away from the experience unsettled – not because i and a friend had been sexually harassed, but because there were so many people in that car, even a guy sitting right in front of us, and they ALL IGNORED US. they continued chatting, sitting quietly, minding their own businesses, and a group of people calmly followed the bastard out the door and up the stairs at union square.
don’t we all inadvertently condone acts like these when we just sit by quietly? i’m not pissed because my friend and i were sexually harassed – i’m disgusted with those new yorkers who witnessed a crime and just let it be… what the fuck, new yorkers?
This guy kept his leg wide open the whole time on the Q14 bus tonight. He kept putting his hand between his legs and massaged the area like he’s in a porn movie. He kept eyeballing me and staring at me until I took out my camera phone and snapped this nasty pervert’s face. As soon as he got off the bus, he just stared right at me through the window and I just flipped him my middle finger. Dirty pervert.
Submitted by C.
I guess I’m just naive and tend to think the best of people (I come by it honestly, from my mom), so my first thought of the middle-aged “dad-type” guy sitting directly across from me with the golf ball-sized hole in his crotch and testicle squeezed, spilling out onto the his seat was that it was gross, but just an accident. Here’s me thinking “aw, that poor guy doesn’t realize he’s got a hole in his pants! But can’t he feel that?”
Idiot. When I met up with my friends that night and told them the exact the same scenario above, they laughed and said, “You got flashed! That rip was completely intentional.” Then when I got home and told my husband, he agreed. Ugh. It was disgusting and disturbing enough for me to see it, but what if I was a little kid sitting right across from him? Maybe a little kid would’ve pointed and yelled. Maybe I should’ve too.
Well, at least I’m holla-ing back. That’s a start.
Submitted by Ali