Jackie’s story: Stop telling me to come over
I was walking home from my boyfriends house on a Sunday afternoon at around 3pm. I was wearing a dress with a full skirt that fell just past my fingertips. As I was walking, a man sitting on the curb starting yelling out at me “Oh ballerina, little ballerina. Won’t you come sit on my lap. Come dance on my lap little ballerina.”
He got up and began to follow me. I quickly crossed to the opposite side of the street and, thankfully, he didn’t follow.