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This guy groped me in a club around a year ago. He is vile, and the worse thing is when I got upset about it my friends said I was “over reacting” and “it’s just what he is like when he’s drunk”.
I love my friends dearly but it still upsets me even though it was a year ago. I never got an apology from him. This is everything that is wrong with out culture today.
You ask where. It’s happened to me in different cities and states meaning it’s global. I’m now 65 so this doesn’t happen anymore. But I remember cringing walking by guys at construction sites and putting up with the remarks. I remember a work place near my bus stop where the guys would come out and holler at me until I looked at them and then they’d laugh at me and go inside.
I believe they did it to any woman, didn’t matter, just because they could. So to stop it I learned to give them what they wanted and looked at them so it would stop. There was no sexual harassment in those days. But I always felt horrible after realizing now I gave up my power and let them control me.
I’ve been gripped with the “accidental” hand passing over my butt, been grabbed that way leaving a crowded dance floor. And the all time comment that pushes my go nuts button is “smile”.
In those days you sucked it up. Last time a man said that to me all the years of anger came pouring out. WTF for, why do you want me to smile, explain yourself, go and ask that man over there to smile…I’ll watch. He couldn’t getaway fast enough. I hope I stopped him from doing that but alas my daughter now gets the same crap. Anyway, felt good after that!
I am 15 years old, and I have dealt with sexual harassment from age 11 up until now. I now see men as animals, instead of human beings.. but worse I now see myself, as just a piece of meat. This still happens, but in 8th grade I decided I wasn’t going to stand for being groped in the halls everyday, and whistled at, and yelled at from cars, and windows. One day at school, a guy walked up to me and said “hey… Let me ‘titty fuck’ you right there in the corner!”, as you can imagine I was appalled at the fact he would have such disrespect for a female, no forget female, as a person!! I stood there completely silent, just taking his crude harassment. Eventually when he was done touching me, and yelling at me, I calmly walked away, he followed me. I finally lost my temper and decided I had nothing to lose, I tuned around And yelled back “IM A PERSON!” And he said “yeah a person with big tits!”, that is about the point where I lost it completely, and broke down, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “you objectify women! You have no respect, and because of that, nobody will have respect for you!” And he laughed and laughed at me… But believe it or not, I felt better afterwards! :O alas I continue to get harassed…. I hate highschool, and I hate how assholish guys can be… The worst parts are- I’ve told the office and they simply responded with “oh I’m Sorry we can’t help you.”, how fucking awful is that? The second worst part is that I don’t feel safe anymore as a person and a girl… I hate it
Drunk guy in bar harassing my friends. Friends looked at their shoes and tried to stop interaction by not responding. Drunk guy touched my friend inappropriately. I turned him around by his shoulder and grabbed his hand.
Me: Hey man, what’s your name?
Me: Nice to meet you, ___.
Him: I like you. You’re nice to me. They’re being ******.
Me: No, you’re just bothering them and they don’t like it. So you need to stop that now.
Him: Let me show you a picture.
Me: No, I don’t need to see that. You need to go away or I’m telling someone to get you out of here.
Interaction stopped! Did I have to see a cell phone picture of his junk in order to get him to go away? Yes. Did any other larger, more capable, male-gendered (therefore viewed as more threatening and worthier of respect) person in the bar – of which there were PLENTY – try and help me out? No!
But did the guy go away and stop touching my friends?
Yes he did.
I was just starting my job at a popular bar/restaurant in the town I was going to college in. It was my first real experience working in a fast paced resaurant setting, and I was doing my training with one of the other girls who had worked their a long time.
After a couple days, we were scheduled to work out in the outdoor section, which gets pretty hectic when its nice out. Things were going relatively well, until this large table of middle to older aged men came out. They were loud, and extremely obnoxious. They were sticking around for multiple hours ordering drink after drink, and getting noticeably louder, and increasingly drunk.
Each time I went to the table to take drink order after drink order, they kept calling me names like sweetie, sweetheart, doll, etc. and asking me questions that made me extremely uncomfortable. As the night went on, I was getting more and more shaken. There was even one point where one of them knocked me over and I spilled a tray full of drinks all over the ground, and myself.
I tried my best not to let it get to me, until I took their order again, and then suddenly, as I was taking their order, one of the older men I was standing next to took his arm and just laid it on my shoulders. I’m a really small person, just about 5’2, and so I couldn’t get away. The girl I was training with had to pull me away from him, and she told me not to worry about it.
Not long after that experience, I left the bar, because I just couldn’t handle it. I kept blaming myself, saying,”Well I should have expected that, being so small and working around a bunch of drunk men.” But after awhile, I realized I was just supporting their god awful behavior, and that I should have never excused the way those men treated me that night. Its definitely a memory that will always stick with me.
Je marche sur le bd Rochechouart entre Pigalle et la rue des martyrs, le long des magasins de musique. Il est midi ou 13h je ne sais plus, il fait beau, c’est septembre. Je suis en jean, basket, petit haut à fleurs. Soudain je sens le truc bizarre, le mec qui arrive en face me mate méchamment (au sens premier), mate mes seins de manière obscène et balance “salope” alors qu’on se croise. Comme ça.
The first time I was harassed, I was seven, sitting in a movie theater, watching a kids’ movie. A man came and sat-down next to me. He put his hand on my seat and spread his fingers open, trying to touch me as I squeezed over as far to my left as I could get without leaving my seat. (Changing seats never occurred to me; I was a shy child.) Maybe the creepiest part of the whole creepy thing is that as he left, he dropped three dollars into my popcorn, which was quite a bit for a kid in 1958. I was so innocent, I was totally bewildered.
An interesting footnote is that I was groped again in a movie theater, in Denver, CO, when I was in my late twenties. The man behind me put his hand through the space between the chairs and touched me on the breast. I chased him out of the theater but gave it up when he ran out the door.
I just walked into a grocery store to get some grossly overpriced desserts. As I was walking towards the store, a dude pivoted on the street and followed me into the store. He was talking at me a million miles a minute asking me about myself and whether he could hug me and telling me how beautiful I was. I said absolutely fucking not. Then he started to try to hug me and when I told him “not to fucking touch me,” I walked away.
He grabbed my arm, but I wrenched it away and repeated that he shouldn’t touch me. He also kept insisting I buy him things and asking me if I wanted have sex with him. When he asked if he should just leave and I said that he should, he stole a bunch of shit on the way out. No one batted an eye. When he left I asked “did anyone see that? did anyone at all see that?”, but no one had even looked up.
This is something that I witnessed, but it is for sure going to be one of those moments that I will never forget.
I was about 15. I was with my sisters at the bus stop waiting for the the bus to come by one afternoon on a very busy day.
The bus finally comes and everyone at the bus stop immediately go up to the bus to be the first one to board and claim a seat all the while those that were on the bus are struggling to unboard. I decided to step back and just wait till everything calmed down, and what I saw next shocked me and choked me up.
There was an old man, probably in his 80′s, unboarding, who due to his old age had a hard time coming down the steps of the bus. I then notice that when he finally makes it down, a young man, probably in his 20′s, grope his crotch and doesn’t let go for what seems like a long few seconds. The young man then casually goes up the steps and boards the bus. The old man, however, has a look of shock on his face. I see humiliation and sadness then set over him as he looks around, probably to see if anyone had witnessed this act. He stands there for a few seconds, very still, in the middle of the chaotic crowd. Humiliated. Then slowly walks away with a look on his face that I will never forget.
I felt absolutely horrible. One, because of what happened to him, and two, for not doing anything. I don’t think I will forgive myself for not stepping up.
This old man, who instead of being respected, was violated in one of the worst ways possible. What a sad scene to see a weak old man, who probably had so much to be proud of in his long life, be humiliated like this.
This goes to show that sexual harassers just violate people because they like the power of the harm they cause. It has nothing to do with what the victim is wearing at all, as many people like to think.
This was last summer (2013), I got off the train on my way to meet a friend when I felt the hand (backside of a hand) brush my butt. I quickly turned around and looked right at the guy who actually jumped at my quick reaction and he tried to walk off as if nothing happened. I followed after him so I could take his picture, he ducked into a pizza place on the corner near the train stop and rushed out the front door.
I had already called my friend who rushed to meet me but the guy was long gone…I got a pic of him though (from behind).