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Ugh… lately I’ve been getting harassed so much that it’s become really tiring. Every day for the past week or two I’ve had some pervert say something gross to me or do something creepy. I’m very independent and like to be on my own a lot, but since I’m a young (20) female, I feel like that makes me a prime target for harassment. To sum up the creepiest people:
About two weeks ago I was waiting for a train in a very corporate part of the city. I was standing near another girl, and then a very professional looking man came and stood between the two of us. I wrongly assumed he wouldn’t be creepy because of the way he was dressed. He started pacing back and forth between the two of us, and I also noticed him staring at me. When we got on the train he took a seat, and the girl and I stood across from each other in opposite doorways. He was VERY obviously looking at her and when she darted her head in his direction he quickly looked away. Then she went to a different part of the train, probably because he was freaking her out. Then he turned his attention to me. Okay, whatever, he’s looking at me. Creepy, but I can deal with it. BUT THEN he whipped out his phone and REALLY OBVIOUSLY took a picture of me. I got off at the next stop. Now this creepy asshole has a picture of me and probably jerked off to it. Ugh.
A few days ago I was at Columbus Circle sitting at the fountain. For awhile I noticed that this guy was sitting next to me, not doing anything in particular. But a lot of people were sitting at the fountain so I didn’t think much of it. I was on the phone with someone for a long time, and right when I hung up he tried to start a conversation with me but I could tell he was trying something so I got up and left. As I’m walking away, listening to my music, I notice the same guy walking behind me. He was walking behind me for a few minutes and I could tell he was looking at me… I couldn’t believe he was actually following me. He started asking me questions like my name and what I’m doing in the city. I know I shouldn’t have responded to him and should have just told him to fuck off, but I made up some bullshit and then when I quickly took an unexpected turn he finally left me alone.
Finally, today I was once again at Columbus Circle at the fountain (yeah, maybe I should just stop going there) taking pictures. This guy was trying to talk to me, saying things like “hey, hey girl. Hey, hey, hey!” But I just kept ignoring him and calmly walked away like I couldn’t hear him. As I was walking away though I saw the same guy following me. I thought maybe he just happened to be walking the same direction as me, but that definitely wasn’t the case. At first I wanted to just try to ignore him but I knew it wouldn’t work. He told me something like “Hey, I want to talk to you. You look really good.” I told him twice that I didn’t want to talk to him, but then he started describing the parts of me that looked good to him… gross. Then he asked me if I was single, and even when I said no he asked if I wanted to do something sexual with him (although he didn’t put it so conservatively). I didn’t show my rage because I didn’t want him to know he was affecting me. So I just calmly told him “nope” and he turned around and walked the opposite direction.
Submitted by A.
Thanks for all the work you are doing in the city. I sent you a story a while back and wanted to relay another disgusting event to you.
I live in Queens and I was going home a little late getting on the 7 at Grand Central and this guy in a suit was like walking really close down the stairs behind me. So I stopped right at the bottom of the stairs where the train pulls up and he walked to my left like 20 feet away and I could tell the perv was staring at me. It took a long time for the train to get there and he was staring at me the whole time. So the train pulls up and all the sudden he is like RIGHT on my ass like pushing me in. I got in and there was a corner seat by the connecting door open so I sat there thinking he couldn’t rub up on me there. So he comes and stands right in front of me and is looking right down my top.
He was like 35, 6 feet, really good looking, wavy black hair with a wedding ring on. If you guys see him watch out. So I see that his hand is moving in his right pocket and he starts flicking his tongue at me. I was fuckin repulsed and like no one could even see him cause he had me in the corner. I am like 5’1″ and I was scared so I didn’t do anything but pretend he wasn’t there.
I could see his hard on and him rubbing it in his pants. He was like mumbling stuff too. I know one time he said o so u like that huh? It was so obvious. He was also like tapping my shoe with his foot like HEY look up at me jerking off and staring at you. My stop was 2 stops away but when the next stop came up I got up and got off. He purposely blocked me and groped my boob on the way out. I was scared and pissed too. This was on Monday and I havent seen him since. I cant wait to get the phone app you are putting out. I tried to get a pic but the train pulled away as I was trying to get his picture. You can share this story because I think it might help anyone else on that line at night.
Thanks for all your help.
Submitted by Krista
Two vermin on St. Marks in studded leather jackets; I thought they were a couple until….Taller one: “Hey, sexy lady”
I yelled “STOP HARASSING WOMEN! NO ONE LIKES IT! YOU’RE GOING UP ON THE INTERNET!!”
“SEE YOU ON HOLLABACKNYC.COM, SMEGMA!!!”
Shorter one: “Whore!” He wishes.
I was wearing a 3/4 sleeve top , jeans and carrying a backpack.
Submitted by ninyabruja
note: Never heard of the word smegma? Us either. According to urban dictionary it is a “buildup of skin and other crud found between the foreskin and penis.” Um, gross. But whatta great hollaback word. Take that, smegma!
Was at the bar last night, and I met a friend of my boyfriend’s for the first time. When my boyfriend left to get another drink, I was telling the man I’d just met about my job. He seemed like he was listening, and he was nodding. Then he interrupted me and said “yeah, yeah, blah, you have really nice tits”. Everyone around the table seemed a bit uncomfortable, but no one said anything, just laughter. I didn’t know what to say, and everyone was laughing. I knew I wasn’t going to be leaving the bar anytime soon, so if I said something I would be ensnared into an ethical conversation about “complimenting women”. So I just said thank you, in an effort to move the conversation to something other than my “nice tits”.
Submitted by Jessi
I have no picture, because this happened to me back in the nineties. I lived in Ecuador and the harrassment was an everpresent part of my life. So many things happened, and my policy was to be angry and let them have it. This one time, though, this little man was following behind me closely, muttering disgusting things. I yelled, I tried to act intimidating, but he would not stop. Then I noticed that we were alone-it was the middle of the day, and the businesses were closed. So I made a plan. I pretended to give up, and I walked a few blocks, with him muttering the whole way, always trying to get closer. I walked right to a walkway full of people, and when we were in the middle, I yelled “pervert, leave me alone!” at the top of my lungs. He froze, and I saw his eyes darting around in panic. Right before he ran off, he looked at me and I smirked.
Submitted by Ellen
I was standing on the corner of 26th st. and 7th ave. in Manhattan enjoying my lunch break on a beautiful day. I heard something hissing from nearby, and turned around to this character nodding and hissing at me. A minute after snapping this photo as he walked off, I stopped him and asked if he had just been hissing at me, and if he was trying to get my attention. Here’s what our conversation looked like:
I said “I’m just out here enjoying my lunch break and trying to go about my business and you interrupted me.”
He said “What if I had come up to you and said ‘I think you’re beautiful’?”
And I said “I don’t care, I don’t want anyone talking to me on the street, I don’t like talking to strangers on the street and most women don’t.”
We went back and forth like this for a couple of minutes and he tried to say he wasn’t hissing at me. He said what’s the difference between that and telling me I’m beautiful and I said:
“Well at least that would have been better than standing across the street making animal noises at me.”
He finally said “I’m sorry.”
And I said “Thank You.”
Submitted by V
I’ve never tried to stand up for someone else getting street harassed (half the time I don’t even do it well enough when *I’m* getting harassed)…but last week I couldn’t resist. I was standing on 28th st. at the R train stop to go uptown and a girl exited from the stairs. This guy and his friends started saying all sorts of stuff to her. As she walked away I said “Show some respect. Girls don’t like to be talked to like that.” And the guy said “NO, NEVER!” I pulled out my camera phone and snapped this blurry shot as he was walking away. When he saw it he said, “Take a picture, bitch”. OK, thank you, I just did.
Submitted by Anonymous
It was summer 2009, maybe 6pm, and I was walking back from putting my laundry in the wash at a laundry mat right off of Washington Square Park on West 4th street in NYC.
I was wearing shorts, a billowy t-shirt, and flip flops. I had my ipod on. A man who looked to be around 50 years old stood right in my walking line directly in front of me. He motioned for me to remove my headphones, and I assumed he’d ask for directions. “Yes?” I asked. And then he said, “I want to lick your asshole dry.” Not knowing what to do, after a second I yelled in his face really loud “Go fuck yourself,” and he started walking away. I starred at him and he kept looking back glaring angrily at me. He legitimately seemed surprised by my angry response.
I don’t understand why they always seem so shocked when you get pissed off. What do they really think will happen?
In retrospect I wish I had physically assaulted him in some way, and I generally don’t ever feel the urge to be violent in life, but when things like this happen, I do.
As women we get stuck in a hard position where, we can’t fight back because you never know if the sicko harrassing you is willing to kill you or physically hurt you too. I wish more passersby, men in particular, were willing to step in when they witness this crap. Not that it’s fair, but men seem to react to men differently than a woman when they step up in confrontation.
-Pissed Off in the Park
I’m sick of being harrassed. Love your site and what you’re doing for women everywhere. Really makes a difference.
Submitted by Mary
One of the most frustrating things about living in a big city is the feeling that I can’t walk outside without being harassed on the street at least once a day. When I first started experiencing this I found it annoying, but as the years pass I become increasingly furious. Not a day goes by that I don’t experience one or more of the following: cat-calling, whistling, kissing noises, intensely seductive stares, or pointed glances up and down my body. Contrary to what many men think, this attention is not appreciated and not flattering, and I’m sure most women agree with me. This kind of attention is not like being given a complement …it’s not like being told, “you are beautiful.” It actually feels horrible; it makes me feel degraded and violated, but most of all, it makes me feel utterly powerless. I feel as if my body doesn’t belong to me, and this infuriates me more than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I have tried a variety of things to deal with this situation: I’ve tried saying things like, “what are you looking at?”, I’ve tried using my worst glares, evil eyes, and disgusted faces, I’ve tried looking through men to make them feel invisible, and I’ve tried ignoring them and staring straight ahead. When I talk back to men in a nasty tone of voice, they either pretend that they weren’t cat calling me (as if I was making it up and I should be so lucky to get their attention), or they get equally mad back at me. Glaring, staring through them, and ignoring them doesn’t prevent the harassment either, and it doesn’t make me feel better. No matter what I do, I never feel in control of the situation. I feel imprisoned—I am overly self-conscious about what I wear, and I dread the hot days when I have no choice but to wear semi-revealing clothing.
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