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“Nice ass…best butt in town”, was yelled at me by a group of men, followed by a wolf-whistle, when walking down the Main Street of Angaston. This was a Saturday afternoon and it was humiliating. I pretended not to hear it, although my non-response encouraged more comments.
Je rentrais chez moi le soir avec une copine, et deux hommes nous ont abordées. Ma copine et moi, on ne lui a pas répondu quand il nous a demandé, dans un premier temps, si on pourrait “faire connaissance” et après si on “voulait baiser”. Moi et ma copine a continué notre chemin sans répondre, alors il a crié qu’on était des grosses putes en nous suivant quelques mètres. Puis lui et son copain ont quitté la place.
I went home at night with a girlfriend and two men approached us. My girlfriend and I, we did not answer him when he asked us, at first, if we could “get to know them” and then if we “wanted to fuck.” My girlfriend and I went on our way without answering, then he shouted that we were big whores and they followed us a few meters. Then he and his friend left.
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.
After attending a house concert for a collective in my city aimed at improving representation of women and non-binary people in the local music scene, I was unlocking my bike from the tree it was chained to. Two men in a sedan drove by and yelled “Bend over, baby!” at me. I was shocked at their rudeness and cowardice and especially discouraged after being in such a positive environment. Oh, the irony.
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.
My girlfriend receive lewd remarks directed at her by a man in a business suit. When she confronted the fellow he claimed she shouldn’t be wearing the shirt she chose to wear .
A middle aged man saying ‘I like you like that’ referring to my low cut top up in my face as I was walking through the centre of town at 11pm.
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.