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

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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

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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

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Verbal

Even in Winter Clothes!!!

i am a photographer in nyc.
i was shooting at a studio by chelsea pier today when my client said they wanted some outside shots. the model, myself, and the art director walked no more than 50 ft from the building when the whistles and bullshit started up from a nearby construction site. the poor girl was wearing winter clothing in 100 degree weather and now she’s got to put up with these clowns.
so i say something like “i don’t bother you at your work, why do you have to make my job hard?” with that a few of the guys came closer asking me why i was getting nasty with them, they actually had the nerve to be pissed at me. my client grabbed me by the arm and told me to keep shooting. we finished up quickly and as we were leaving a van pulled up at a light with another asshole talking bout a great ass or some shit like that, so i spun and snapped his pic.
where the fuck do these guys get off doing this shit, don’t they have daughters, mothers, sisters, or wives?

great site and i hope to see it blow up even though every single story makes me see fucking red.

keep snapping safely ladies, these are not men, they are pigs, show the world who they are.

submitted by eric v.

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Verbal

HollaBack goes to the Dirty South

En route to sunny North Carolina, we stop at an Eckard’s for some oh-so-neccessary Diet Coke and Junior Mints. As I walk out, a hoard of riff-raff rolls by on skateboards. One particularly squirmy one said, “Hey baby, what’s your name.”

I heard them yell as the rolled out of sight, “Yo, that chick has a camera! Go, go!”

Submitted by Emily

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Verbal

Two Tales from Land of the Asshole

One:
My boyfriend and I were walking to his house after babysitting 6 little children that night. The parents got home around 12 and we ended up playing video games until 3 am.
Leavin their house and making our way across town to my boyfriends, a black small-thing of a truck pulled up beside us, full of American guys [3 I think.], clearly drunk.
One leaned out the window, the music turned down, shouted to me,
“Show us your vagina!” and started to laugh.
Givin them the finger as my boy and I rounded a corner, I shouted clam and clearly back “”only if you show me yours first.”

Two:
My best friend from highschool and I were walking towards Tim Hortons for drinks. Being about 11 pm, and summer, a few kids I didn’t know all stopped to sit in front of KFC, facing McDonalds. They were clearly drunk because each had their own bottle of beer.
As we walked past them, they asked us when McDonald’s closed. But since I she was talking to me and I had my headphones on, we didn’t hear them.
So they shouted back “fucking bitches. I only wanted to know what time!”
I whispered to my friend, “Unless you are going to act like Ashlee Simpson, then I don’t reckon they’s let you in.”

Submitted by Reba .

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Stalking, Verbal

Berkeley Harassment Take Two!

This happened to me in Berkeley… there are a lot of cat calls here. My neighbor said, “Well, that’s what Berkeley is like.” I say it’s inappropriate no matter what city it is and Berkeley deserves a better reputation than that.

First off this guy was persistent. He was hanging out in front of my building by the Laundromat. Every girl that walked by he made a comment “Want to wrestle?” Then he mumbled something to me and I asked to repeat himself. He claimed he didn’t say anything. 

Later I was walking up the street he was walking in the same direction. He said “Hey sweetie…” I asked him to stop talking to me and that he was being disrespectful. He started a string of insults about my ass being fat and so on. So I took his picture and told him it would be on Hollaback. He didn’t like it.

Submitted by Marlenee.

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Verbal

Spunk? Who Uses That Word Anyway?

On my way home from work, I jumped on the L train and took a seat next to a man trying to hog the space next to him by sitting with his legs spread. I don’t go for that kind of crap, especially during rush hour. He made room for me, but he kept looking me over and I just knew he was going to say something. Here’s how the exchange when down, by far the most heated and close quartered holla back yet:

Him: You have beautiful eyes.
I turn my head slowly and look him in the face.
Him: Your eyes? (he gestures to his own) They’re beautiful.
Me: (slowly and forcefully) “I don’t care what the fuck you think. I don’t need your fucking compliments. So shut the fuck up.”
He is absolutely astounded. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?”
Me: Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me at ALL?
Him: We’re on the subway together–
Me: That doesn’t give you the fucking right to talk to me.
Him: You don’t have the right to talk to me like that. Maybe next time I’ll say something derogatory. How bout that?
Me: Leave me the fuck alone.
Him: You need to watch the way you talk to me.
Me: Then why don’t you quit talking to ME?
Him: No wonder New York is so shitty…
Me: Yeah, because it’s got you in it.
Him: Oh, me? You’re nothing but a white racist.
Me: I’m not racist. I’m not even white. And you’re a sexist.
Him: Not white, oh, what are you then, orange?
Me: Now you’re going to tell me what race I am? [I should have said, "Oh, we got an ethnographer here!"]

At this point it just turns into a stupid repetition of the first few exchanges. I finally just ignore him and go back to my book. He is still reveling from my decline of his compliment and the demand for privacy and peace… Finally, after a few minutes…
Him: (Shaking head) Well I will say this, you got spunk.
Me: Shhh. (keeps reading) [Should have said: If you ever have a daughter I hope "spunk" is enough to keep her from getting raped.]
Him: Did you hear me?

Nothing else is said, but he keeps making these mock astounded gestures and huffy noises. When I get off I make sure to look him right in the eyes one last time (how sexy am I now, fucker?), holding my head high and slightly squinting my eyes in contempt. I don’t know
what washed over his face, surprise? fear? Well I’m not afraid of you, fucker. I’m not anything
you can wrap your tiny brain around, and I’ll talk however I want. That’s what you get when you try to assert your opinions on any given woman. And I’m not the only one who talks back, not by a long shot.

In retrospect, it really surprised me that he’d immediately jump to racism (I guess he was black,
maybe some Latino too?). Oh, because I responded angerly to his pathetic mack I *must* hate his race. I love that shit–a man alluding to equal rights. If I was a man he wouldn’t have said a word to me. If there was true “equality” I would be granted the same silence and respect as a man. I will NEVER take my silence, broken by clumsy implications of my alleged “beauty,” as a compliment. Never.

Submitted by Kate.

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Verbal

Gotcha!

I’m going to guess this guy wasn’t from Berkeley.

I was waiting to cross the street as this truck waited to turn, and the guy in the passenger seat started making crude comments to me and my female friend.

“Sit on my lap and ride!”

I took out my phone and got this shot. He was flattered, at first.

“Hey, she’s taking my picture!”

“Yeah, so I can post it online and tell everyone what an asshole you are.”

Then he didn’t look so flattered. He didn’t have much to say after that, either.

Thanks, HollabackNYC!

Submitted by Anne.

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Assault, Verbal

I Like My Ass Too, But…

Walking up Madison Ave at 32nd Street, dude start walking right behind me and my friend.
“Nice, nice.”
My friend and I ignore him.
“Niiice.”
I turn around.
“What did you say?”
“I said I like your ass.”
“Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t like it.”
I take out my camera, he keeps grinning and being dumb. I take a picture but he turns his head.
So I take another one.
Check out your picture online. HollaBackNYC!

Tard.

Submitted by Anna.

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