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Walking down 14th with two of my friends, a man walked toward me in that way they do, where you know they’re about to say something disgusting. He didn’t say anything, though. He just passed by me extremely close, then turned and started following us. He threw out some “baby… baby”s and we ignored him. His comments became more disgusting, “I love your pussy. It’s my favorite.” He kept following. He followed us to our front steps (by the time we realized he was still following, we were already on our deserted street), though we told him to stop. We told him no several times. My friend got out her phone to call the cops and the guy finally left. My friend spoke to the 911 operator for a few minutes. We’re still seething, and worried about him knowing where we live.
A series of ongoing incidents has left me feeling isolated and hesitant to socialise. I am often followed home by a person in a car who will use very degrading language (shouted out of the car window,or a series of hoots to alert my attention) it seems that they want me to know that they are following me as they are in cars and i am on foot (there is often more than one person or different cars),it is difficult to identify then. On a regular basis the car will hoot outside in a neighbouring street always within an hour of me getting home.
the same group have also been spreading rumours within my social circle referring to me with discriminatory references to people who are then discouraged from communicating or socialising with me to the degree that my entire social circle have become misinformed about me (with gossip and lies). For some time now i have been living an isolated existence which consists of receiving verbal abuse and being told i am unworthy of being helped . They often use ethnic and sexual references and paint a picture of ‘dirty’,’slut’ and many other references to make it unappealing to reach out. As i cant identify these people they just continue to getting kicks out of making my life like a prison.
This happened on the street in NY, a fairly deserted street, walking home from the World Trade Center in the 1990’s. I was at the beginning of my 6 mile walk home, and a male followed me about a block and a half, and then started talking about “that ass. That’s a big ass you got there. Yeah, baby, that’s some ass, how’d you get that big ass.”
I believe I eventually told him to “leave me the fuck alone,”; in all likelihood, I told him I’d go to the police.
Such was the entitlement of all sorts of men back then!
My roommate and I were walking, when two (drunk?) men in their twenties (we’re both 19) were being rowdy around the intersection of Tremont and Boylston. My roommate and I ignored them–city life, right? Until they started running in our direction. We huddled a little closer under her umbrella, but the footsteps got closer and then began slowing down. She stood in front of me, since I’d had trouble with harassment in the past, and shot them a look.
“Hey,” the guys said. “So, what’s up?”
“Are you drunk?” she asked.
“We’re not weirdos,” they said, out of breath, looking us up and down.
“So,” one said. “What’re your names?”
“Nope!” my roommate said, grabbing my hand. We immediately ducked into Piano Row, since it’s an Emerson building and we’re both Emerson students. We were safe there, since the doors lock unless you have an Emerson pass key. We decided to stay there for a few minutes before continuing our journey home.
Two minutes later, the men were at the door, pressing their faces against it and looking at us. The security guard looked to us and asked if they were students.
“No,” I said. “They’re drunk, I think, and were harassing us on the street earlier.”
The security guard told them non-students weren’t allowed in the building, especially not at this hour (it was about 11, 12 at night). The men went away for awhile. My roommate and I had to get home to our room down the road, but were sure they were still outside.
A group of Emerson students, all female, approached the door, with the guys following them. The guys are telling them they are students and to let them in. My roommate yells to the girls, “Don’t let them in!” One girl actually has to push one back with her elbow to get him to back off. The guard calls for backup and two of them go out to really get rid of them. The group of upperclassmen girls walked us home.
The worst thing is that this happened on my campus. In my home. Where I live.
It is not an isolated incident.
I was accosted by a man on my walk to the market. He complimented my winter coat then proceeded to ask creepily if I really needed to wear so many layers. He then followed me down the street lecturing me that women use sex to control men and that women have abortions because we are no better than murderers. I lost it. I began screaming until cars in the street stopped and the harasser ran away.
It was mid afternoon and I was having a late coffee break at work. I was walking back to the office after my break when a intoxicated man on the street started to call out to me. He said started to say things to me like “You’re a dirty whore” and he started to say all the disgusting things he would like to do to me. He followed me through the streets for about 1km back to my work while continuing to get more aggressive, I was terrified. I rang the police when I was back in the office to tell them what had happened and they told me not to worry about it, they knew the person I was talking about and this happened all the time.
i’m 16. there was this man on the street and i walked next to him and he said to me that i was beautiful. I said back that i didn’t want to have sex with him. What is said was WTF are you saying but he followed me and when i saw a police man I said that he was stalking me and wanted to abuse me and the police man went to he guy to talk with him, but I just ran away because i was scared. Later the police man said to me that there was no problem and that the guy went just the same way as I went. I don’t believe it.
I was food shopping with my little brother in my hometown back in France and we were waiting for the cashier to finish adding up all the articles of the previous client. While we were waiting, two men (who technically were old enough to be my father at least) wearing a building construction outfit lined up behind us, and started making comments in Spanish. My knowledge of this language being relatively limited, I could only understand that they were talking about me. I heard the words “bitch” and “slut” and other obscene words, followed by equally obscene gestures, as they mimicked anal sex and spanking. My brother did not notice anything, and although I really wanted to confront these two specimen I did not want to get my brother to see all this, and maybe put him in an uncomfortable or dangerous situation if they became violent. They ended up following us, still catcalling me in Spanish. They work in the construction field right next to my house, and now I am scared to go out without being accompanied. I should have said something once and for all.
Living in Memphis is a wonderful and terrible thing sometimes. There are a lot of fantastic things about this place, but the sexist and sexually violent attitude that permeates this area disgusts me.
I’ve lived here for nearly three years, and in that time, I have been followed, hollered at, groped, cussed at, and just made to feel like I am “less than”.
This city has a SERIOUS and frighteningly blasé attitude towards sexual assault/harassment and it needs to stop.
Un homme m’a demndé si je sais où il y a un Resto. C’était dimanche donc il y avait pas grande chose ouverte, et personne dans la rue. Je l’ai indiqué un Resto pas loin, puis je l’ai souhaité poliment une bonne journée et je suis partie . Il a marché à côté de moi en silence pendant 5 ou 7 minutes. Je l’ai pas regardé. Enfin il est parti.
A man asked me if I knew where there was a restaurant. It was Sunday, so there wasn’t anything great open, and nobody in the street. I told him about about a restaurant nearby, then I politely wished him a good day and I left. He walked next to me in silence for about 5 or 7 minutes. I didn’t look at him. Finally, he left.