Another Time, Another Place, The Same Old Story

I grew up in Northern Ireland in the 1960’s. Male sexual harassment was endemic. It used to annoy me most using the bus to go to school. You would sit on your own in a nearly empty bus and a man should sit beside you and do the frotteur trick of widening his legs and rubbing against you. Or you would get a man in the seat behind you trying to fondle you through the gap in the seat.  I adapted to this by sitting beside other women, choosing the side seats so men couldn’t get behind me, never sitting g where I could be trapped on the inside, staying near the driver and putting my bags beside me as barriers. Beautiful women have hell in public places, as men will just walk up to them and solicit them or grab them or kiss them. In Northern Ireland the women responded to this by androgenising their appearance to the extent that they could be mistaken for men – then the harassment stops. One beautiful friend had so much trouble with men grabbing her in public she masculinised her appearance so much girls thought she was a handsome guy and started eyeing her up. In the UK most buses have CCTV so you don’t get so much of that problem now.

Valentine’s Villain

Dear Bully,

Don’t remember me? Well let’s see. You touched my butt. Then when I attempted to block your gropey hands, you proceeded to invade my private space, and hurt me by jabbing me with your hips, arms, and backpack. And when I finally picked up the nerve you confront you, the bully that you are, you called me an idiot and scampered away.

Need more help remembering? This happened on 14th February. At around 7:40 to 7:50am. You got your cowardly ass off at the Stadium-Chinatown skytrain station.

Here’s the thing. As promised, I’ve reported your actions to the police. Your likeness has been sketched. I will spread your likeness, image, and actions far and wide. Don’t sleep too easy tonight because they are looking for you.

You’ve messed with the wrong girl.

Sincerely yours,
Angry Asian Girl

Bully stats: slim pale english-speaking caucasian young male (25-30yo), around 5ft4, brown hair with a faint bald patch on his crown. Dressed in a black windbreaker, wearing a black backpack, black pants. Face: brown eyes, weak features, tiny yet thick lips. The less interesting version of Verbal Klint.