Verbal

When a Classy Restaurant doesn’t Yield Classy Patrons

This guy’s real classy… he followed me and my friends into a nice restaurant on my friend’s birthday. He was completely wasted and starts screaming “HEY. YA. HEY YOU. THOSE ARE SOME BEAUTIFUL TITS. I MEAN, REALLY BEAUTIFUL. Don’t be offended, I just love your fucking tits.” The entire restaurant stopped eating. I thought my response was okay, considering I didn’t blow up too much. I gave him a steely smile and said, “That’s polite. Does that mean you want to pay for my meal, jackass?” He kept trying to talk to us for the rest of the night! This guy disgusts me, but I almost feel like putting his picture on the internet isn’t even half as embarrassing as what he did to himself, acting like that big of an asshole in a public place. Saaaaay cheese!

Submitted by Emily

no comments 
Assault, demonstration, Verbal

Karma: Street harassment has a new best friend

I live in the mountains in Southern California. There are a few hillbillies up here and some of these men are downright stupid. I was driving on a main road town. The speed limit is 35 MPH. I was trying to find a street on the left and slowed down to see the street sign. Nope that wasn’t it, so I went on to the next street. By this time I had a good ol’ boy on my tail. I could hear him yelling “move it ya fuckin cunt” and I hurriedly turned left onto my street, to get the hell out of his way.
As he drove on I turned my head to see him shaking his fist at me, yelling “I should fuckin kill you bitch” and as he was looking at me he rounded the blind curve.
Next thing I hear is a big crash. No brakes no nothing.
I didn’t dare go to investigate, I was afraid that this guy might have a gun or just come over and beat me up. I checked the local alerts and it said “traffic collision, man in green truck bleeding”.
He got what he deserved, I just hope no one else was hurt as well. Road rage at its finest.

no comments 
demonstration, Verbal

Soho GROSS-O

What is it with me and bad men in Briton? So I’m there on business again and am having an Archers Aqua outside a bar on Poland Street and gossiping with some of the girls here when I notice that this guy in another group (we are outside as its one of those crowded places) and he’s giving me the eye – I’m not showing off except up top and I’m feeling confident – he’s pretty cute but is drunk and swaying a bit. We carry on drinking and laughing and dancing around a bit outside because its that kind of place and he starts dancing closer with his back to me making these weird sounds like “ummmm…ummmmm.ungh unga..ungh” and thrusting his groin forward (away from me thankfully). I don’t think much of it and he seems more stupid than cute then, especially when he starts to rub his own butt in a nasty way and boogies over to his small group. As we get pushed closer to his group by the crowd I see he keeps looking right at me, leering and I catch bits of his drunken conversation in which he looks at me and mumbles something about a ‘hot carl’ and a ‘cleveland steamer’ and (most scary – I’m sure its about
me but couldn’t prove it) “I’ll put that booty in a wheelchair like a batty boy” in between gross oogling. I come from quite a conservative background and I haven’t heard some of this stuff before I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable but am tipsy and am waiting for someone to call a cab. More people are leaving and this guy just keeps looking at me and I’m sure I he’s still rubbing his butt as he does this little dance. The cab pulls up – one of those VW vans as there are a bunch of us. I’m feeling happy – its been a good night overall with my local girlfriends – then this FREAK looks straight at me and says “I’d reckoned you’d come back to me gaff for a spot of ice docking” and keeps doing his butt dance mumbling “rimm it rimm me off batty bitches”. I have my camera phone with a zoom in my handbag and pull it out as we pull off – think I have the bastards face but all I got is this blur of him doing his butt dance pointing at himself.

We talk about it safe in the back of the cab and apparently these kind of guys are all over Soho. I ask the girls what those terms mean and it is the grossest, most degrading crap I have ever heard. It all involves faeces and is not funny – horrible and violating. I wanted to vomit when I thought about the ice docking. You think you wouldn’t run into poop obsessed street harassers that need to be put away in a nice part of London. I’m so angry…Yuck!

Submitted by Roxie

no comments 
Verbal

I’m wearing fucking pants, asshole.

“I’m sorry, I just have to ask: Is that a Brazilian runway strip or natural?”

Submitted by Destiny

no comments 
Verbal

You know when you can feel men looking at your boobs?


This is what some of them look like. I got a nice round of:
“Oh my bellissima, oh baby…”

Submitted by Elizabeth

no comments 
Verbal

Obviously I’m hotter. Now shut up.

During that huge heat wave in early August, I succombed to that bizarre formal shorts fashion trend. I went out in my tweed formal shorts and black pumps. Around 9pm on a Tuesday night, I’m walking east on Astor Pl and a man in an MTA uniform (wearing the ugly uniform shorts) says to me “Hey baby! Who do you think looks better in shorts? Me or you?” At first I just rolled my eyes, and kept walking.

Then I remembered your site, got motivated to shut this fucker up and walked back to him. He greeted me with “oh…well then, you like shorts don’t you?” I noticed the creep had on a ring of sorts and so I said to him. “How about you call your wife with that cell phone sticking out of your pocket and tell her how you feel about my shorts, huh?” He looked all confused and said “What?” I just responded with a “You heard me… And you look terrible in shorts. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”

He started to mumble something in his defense and I just decided he wasn’t worth my time anymore, so I flipped him off and walked away.

Too bad I forgot to take a picture. His uniform did have some sort of MTA ID number on it after all. But thank you thank you thank you HollaBack NYC for teaching me to defend my body! Maybe my story will inspire some others to do the same.

Submitted by Julie.

no comments 
Verbal

New York Shitty

Like most unemployed people with art degrees, I have a hobby. This hobby is documenting the dog shit problem in my community: Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I even have a blog about it: www.newyorkshitty.com. Perhaps you have heard of it.

ANYWAY— for reasons you can well imagine, this endeavor requires that I hit the streets (camera and notepad in hand) to follow-up shit tips from readers. And just over a week ago, I did just this. The area in question was Norman Avenue between Guernsey and Banker St. I was not disappointed. In fact, I got a little something extra, which I am sending to you. // <![CDATA[
D(["mb","

\n\n

\n\n

These four assholes saw fit to stop loading materials onto a\ntruck to wolf-call me. I paused for a moment, pulled out my camera and took a\nphoto of them. Being the crack-journalist that I am, I even made a notation of\nthe address on my notepad: 34\n Norman Avenue. This act worried one of the workers;\nhe peered around the corner as I continued my rounds and yelled something back\nto his cohorts (en Espanol). Maybe one (or all) of them were undocumented,\nmaybe not, who knows?
\n
\nWhat I *do* know is that if I were\nin such a position, I’d keep my mouth (and fly shut)--- ESPECIALLY if a\nbroad carrying a notepad and camera was snooping around my place of employment.\nNot very bright.

\n\n

\n\n

Miss H

\n\n

\n\n
\n--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~
\nYou received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Holla Back NYC!" group.
To post to this group, send email to Holla-Back-NYC@googlegroups.com
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to Holla-Back-NYC-unsubscribe@googlegroups.com
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/Holla-Back-NYC
-~----------~----~----~----~--",1] );
// ]]>

These four assholes saw fit to stop loading materials onto a truck to wolf-call me. I paused for a moment, pulled out my camera and took a photo of them. Being the crack-journalist that I am, I even made a notation of the address on my notepad: 34 Norman Avenue. This act worried one of the workers; he peered around the corner as I continued my rounds and yelled something back to his cohorts (en Espanol).

If I were him, I’d keep my mouth (and fly shut)— ESPECIALLY if a broad carrying a notepad and camera was snooping around my place of employment. Not very bright.

Submitted by Miss H

no comments 
Verbal

Perverted Asshat on the Telephone

Let me start by saying that I am a native of both Dublin and London. I am used to the leers and hoots of random perverted jackasses from pubs as they glug beer and watch the footie game on the television. But since I moved to New York City in July 2005, at the age of seventeen, I can honestly say I’ve encountered more lewd fuckwits in one thirteen mile long city in one year than you can shake a stick at.

My favourite has to be the asshole who phoned me the other day. I do not have caller ID (but you can be damn sure I’m having it installed ASAP, after this incident). Our conversation goes a bit like this:

*phone rings*
Me: Hello?
*panting and crashing from other end*
Me: Hello?
Random fuckwit: Hey, sexy.
Me: Who is this?
Random fuckwit: Your stallion. Rawr (I wish I could say I was joking)
Me: Stallions don’t rawr. Who are you, and why are you phoning me?
Random fuckwit: *in ridiculous, downright embarassing attempt of a proper English accent: Are you British, mate?
Me: Yes, *mate*, and I’m about to hang up. Bye now.
Random fuckwit: Do you mind if I jack off?
Me: Be my guest. *slam phone down*

As much as I love being accosted by some asshat on the phone, I think I’d be an idiot if I didn’t share this with the rest of the world. Enjoy, ladies, and keep yourselves safe. And Mr. Fuckwit, wherever you are: get a new hobby.

Submitted by Rory

no comments 
Verbal

Slime Attacks a Little Too Close to Home

He’s the one on the phone.

He walked past as I was entering my building and said slimily, “Hey Gorgeous.” Fuck you. Don’t you think it scares me that you know where I live? Go fuck yourself.

Submitted by Julie

no comments 
Verbal

Nice suit

Walking around on 34th street in the middle of a weekday, this Mr. Man in Suit whispers, “Nice legs” as he walks by. Ew.

Two days later, my friend Anna says, “Nice legs,” to which I responded, “Hey, thanks!”

Funny how the same words feel so different.

Submitted by Emily

no comments