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“How are you doing? Hot enough for you?”
I stop, turn around to him and say “Don’t mess with me today.”
“I’m not messing with you.”
I respond, “A lot of women don’t like it when men they don’t know approach
them. It’s very scary and it’s very rude.”
He nods his head and smiles. “Oh, okay. I’m sorry.”
Yesterday I marched in the gay pride parade in NYC, what a blast that was! I felt so sexy all day dressed in a short dress, complete with garter and pink undies, strutting my stuff all over the streets of Manhattan. “Work it girl” and “fabulous” was all I heard all day, and each time it made me beam with pleasure and pride.
Unfortunately, as I was walking home from the night of dancing and fun, I walked by two thirty something white men standing outside a storefront. As if I could smell their chauvinism, I puffed up mychest and accentuated my strut, filled with the pride of the day. One of them called out, “put on some pants.” I turned as I strode past them, giving the guy my middle finger in the most vulgar fashion I could while I met his gaze straight on. After working his jaw a few times he came up with a smugly comeback to my ‘fuck you’ – “You wish you could,” he said.
There are only a few times when I remember my brain actually feeling like it was about to boil over, and this was one of them. I was so angry I think I would have fought him if he had dared. I stopped walking and turned my entire body about face to him and said, in my deep, natural voice, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do, fuck you in your bigoted ass. Yeah, I want to fuck you in your BIGOTED ass.” I continued to stare at him for a few moments. It seemed that he was deciding whether to come after me. I’m not sure why he didn’t – perhaps he could sense how angry I was, or maybe he had just then realized that smear the queer wouldn’t quite work with me since I was definitely bigger than he was. It also probably helped that there were two other people near us on the sidewalk, one woman who nodded her head at me in support and another woman who scurried by, obviously freaked out by the entire situation.
I left the scene with my emotions still flaring, and wondering if I had done the right thing. I hope I gave him something to think about, being called a bigot to his face. That word was so powerful comingout my lips – the powerful truth, more powerful than any fist I think.
I had a second, less dramatic experience later that same night. Walking by the the south end of Tompkins Square park, a straight couple walked passed me. I heard the man hiss something like “fucking fags” as they walked by. “Shut up!” his girlfriend immediately said, in a tone of moral reprehension. Thank you sister, whoever you are, and I hope you let your boyfriend know that if he can’t bear the site of a fag then isn’t gonna be seeing you anymore either.
These fine young gentleman actually hung their heads out of the car like dogs while we drove by. My sister was terrified, but I was determined to catch up and snap a photos of these beauties. I love how there are like three of them…layer upon layer of perverseness.
Submitted by Rachel.
On the way we pass these guys drinking in their front garden (which is full of flags for the soccer match) and they are giggling, belching and farting (yuck!!) cause they think that’s funny. One of them makes a noise like ‘Ooooo! Ooooo!’ as we go past but I rise above it.
After we have a few Breezers outside (and no Hugh Grants were in there!) and watch the silly soccer its time to go back to the hotel but I see this lanky guy in shades who was part of that group looking at us and making humping noises. Then I see he is actually grabbing his crotch quite violently and jumping up and down! He’s pretty drunk but I can just hear him shout stuff like ‘play with me mansack!’ and ‘Eat it!’.
That was it – time to Hollaback at this jerk! I put my cameraphone on max zoom from across the street and walked by pretending not to look but I caught him still grabbing and shouting about his ‘sack’. What a loser and it ruined my trip. At least I remembered I’m now empowered to Hollaback at asshats that can’t keep it to themselves!
Submitted by Roxanne.
Bad: being awakened this morning by construction workers jack-hammering the shit out of the building next door.
Worse: going for a walk to get away from the NOISE and get hollered at by a(nother) construction worker who cannot control his ‘nads.
Good thing I had my digital camera. Line up ladies, this one is a catch…
Written by Miss Heather.
Downtown Portland transit center- waiting for a bus to get out to the other side of town for a job interview. Guy walks up behind me, lets out a wolf whistle. Walks around in front of me and says: “Lady, has anyone told you that you have a beautiful ass? It’s beautiful, and so big!” (Mind you, I’m in pretty good shape, at 40-something. Not fat.) Having my ass scrutinized in public pissed me off. So I looked him in the face and said: “Not as big as the ass standing in front off me.” Complete shock on his face, and he walked off muttering.
Yup, I’m a bitch. And I don’t take it from anybody.
Submitted by Laura.
Walking down 8th avenue in Park Slope I hear him mutter, “Nice, very nice. Sexy lady” as he stares me up and down. I whipped around and holla’ed “What did you say?” He took a pregnant pause, “You’re a good girl. A good girl.”
Then, I shit you not, he pulls this out of his pocket and hands it to me:
Written by Brianna.