When I moved to a big city last month, I expected that I would have to be updating this blog daily. I thought I would encounter terrible situations every day. Luckily for me, I spent most of my time setting up my apartment…so this blog has gotten slow. However, yesterday something finally did happen that would merit its addition to this blog:
I had just gotten off the subway and was walking out of the station, past a bus stop on my way home. It was three p.m. (READ: BROAD DAYLIGHT); I was off work, tired from a lack of sleep and my impending caffeine crash, when a man at the bus stop spoke to me. He was shirtless and leering–the picture of a Hollywood movie street creep–and murmured things at me as I passed. Specifically, he was commenting on my hair and body: “Mmmm, short hair. And it looks so good when you walk like that. Mmmmm.” He then followed me down the street for a couple of blocks before turning back and leaving.
The worst part about it all was that I just held my head high and pretended that he didn’t exist. I wish society hadn’t made me so scared of retaliation that I don’t speak up. I want to defend myself, and I’m too frequently too scared to do so.