The other night, I was standing on my porch when a man stopped his car in front of my building. He said something that I couldn’t make out so I asked him to repeat it. When he said it the second time, it sounded like he said “Please tell me your middle name.” Confused, I asked “You want to know my middle name?” He shook his head and replied “No. Please tell me you are good in bed. Like, you ain’t got a boyfriend or nothin?” I told him that I do, in fact, have a boyfriend. He sat there for a few seconds and then sped off in his car.
I was traveling in Paris, making my way to the Eiffel Tower one bright afternoon. I was looking around, trying to make sure I was going the right way, and, as a result, I made eye contact with a man that was walking past me on the sidewalk.
A few minutes later, he had turned around and caught up to me. He followed me. I was nervous, trying to be polite yet distant while he tried to engage me in conversation. On the way back to the underground, he grabbed my hand and tried to kiss me.
I moved away from him, told him to stop, but he just laughed and kept walking beside me. We were in a part of the park that was virtually empty, so, even though I told him to leave, I didn’t want to stay where I was, with no one else around, until he did.
All the way back to the underground, he continued to try to touch me. I tried to push him away, but didn’t want to strike him. The last thing I wanted was for the situation to turn violent.
Finally, I made it back to one of the main stations, walked over to the police booth and stayed there until he left. Some people have said I should have expected it, traveling alone… Like the unacceptable behavior was mine. But what makes it okay for him to harass me, touch me, stalk me? Why does walking somewhere on my own in broad daylight mean he’s not to blame?
i live in florida and go to the beach frequently. earlier this year i went with my aunt’s friend and her two children, aged 4 and 7. we were on a stretch of sand next to the highway so we could leave the spring breakers alone because it was too crowded on the beaches further down the island. some young, college aged men came driving down the highway in their car with penises drawn all over their car and honked at me and my aunt’s friend, yelling things like “nice asses” i was 15 at the time, and even then i was aware that catcalling was wrong. i wanted to say something but they drove away too quickly
The first time someone catcalled me I was 12. I always considered myself as fat and ugly, back then was no exception.
I was wearing my school’s uniform (a shapeless dress that helps my self-esteem by making me look even more fat than usual) and a big jacket. I was walking. Near my house, some guys were reconstructing one of my neighbors’ house. When I walked next to them they started to whistle and say things like “damn, can I play your guitar?” (I had a guitar with me). It was the first time anyone ever said something like that to me, I was confused because I didn’t understand why would they say that to a 12 year old and someone who looked like me, also I felt distressed, scared that they would do something to me and since I told my dad to pick me up from school.
Now this year, at the age of 14, I constantly get catcalled by old, desperate men. They disgust me, saying things like “you shouldn’t be walking alone girl, lot of bad people out there” or implying that they want to take me. The last time I directly stared at the man and said “excuse me?” with a raised eyebrow. He froze and didn’t say anything else. I’m ready to give the finger or laugh at the face of the next man who does this. Lately I miraculously haven’t been harassed, something I find great, and I hope it won’t happen again but in a world like this I can’t think it will stop.
I work in a small local ice cream store and during the summer I was harassed and so were my co-workers.
My experience was one I had never had before. I was working alone and it was later in the evening. Normally, I feel safe because, I have a counter between me and my costumers. But that evening, I had a slightly drunk man come in, and he had his friend and his friends wife in with him. The wife went to the bathroom. They stayed and ordered ice cream. I started up a conversation up with them. They weren’t local, and I so I asked them what they thought of Paonia. My town is small with one main street of three blocks, so I know pretty much know everyone who comes in. The friend was very courteous and polite responding that they were enjoying my small town. However the other man, responded with “I like it here, you have cute little girls.” and then he paused and added “Like you” His friend looked shocked and apologized for him. I wish I could of said something to him. Instead I just stood behind my register dumbfounded and speechless.
This is something my co-workers have experienced.
I came in one morning to work and noticed a small notecard taped behind the register giving the police chief’s information. I was a little surprised and shocked. When I asked my manager about it, she told me one of my co-workers was being stalked and the man had come in several times. She showed me a picture of the man, I had seen him before. The police were called and he has never come back.
Some guy yelled, “I like pink too!” in reference to the shirt I was wearing. And when I didn’t respond, he shouted,
“I like pusssyyy!!!!!”
I was walking around my campus between classes, waiting at a cross walk when a man yelled “nice tits” at me out the passenger window of a car turning a few feet away.
I was a cocktail waitress in a rock and roll bar for a number of years when I was in college. The bar was always crowded and the clientele had to rely on the wait staff to deliver the drinks as the crowd around the bar was pretty impenetrable. There was one night when one of the wait staff a friend of mine had a drink poured over her head by a guy because she didn’t get it to him fast enough. So I was already pissed off. Then as I was making my way thru the crowd to take orders without a huge tray of drinks and some guy grabbed me in the crotch and gave me a “hey baby”. Really? Without much thought I turned on the asshole, channeled my inner wonder woman, grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the wall. I remember yelling something about “don’t you ever” with my finger in his face, and I don’t know who was more surprised- him, me or his friends. Felt good, and a little bit scary.
I was walking back to my dorm from town, and I passed a man sitting on his porch. He didn’t look or say anything to me. When I was a few feet from my dorm, the man pulled up next to me in his car and said “hey baby, do you want a ride?”. I responded “no” and walked quickly into my dorm lobby.
This happened a couple of years ago. I’m a middle-aged woman, and a little chubby. I was dressed in jeans and a tshirt. I certainly don’t consider myself that sexy anymore (but that’s another issue)…
I’d sprained my ankle about two months before, and my physical therapist was seven blocks from my house.
I think I was still in a walking boot when I was walking home that day. On one side of the street is a tiny little strip of stores and a parking lot – the same side my home is on, and the physical therapist. As I neared this area, a little old man walked toward me on the sidewalk. He was probably around 70 years old, maybe older, shorter and smaller than me. He locked eyes with me when we were about 30 feet apart. I began to get nervous but figured he was harmless. I kept looking away – both to watch the ground (sprained ankle!) and to try to lose the creepy feeling… As we passed each other, he muttered something like “Ay! Mamacita!” and waggled his tongue at me.
I seriously was freaked out by this and hobbled as quickly as I could away, looking back over my shoulder, thinking “well, at least he didn’t grab me”…
I stopped at a coffee shop before going home, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me or watch where I went.
My partner later told me this particular old man has done the same thing to her, as well as some young (middle school?) girls coming from the private school down the street. The girls also ran into that coffee shop to hide.
I haven’t seen him since, but I’ve been ashamed at how frightened I was of a little old man.