Apr. 19, 2011 at 12:35pm with 113 notes View comments
When bad things happen to other people.

trigger warning

I spent most of Sunday in the boat yard, making use of the internet and laundry facilities, neither of which I enjoy at home. It was a beautiful day, and quiet. Bean and his half sisters played happily in the water while I sifted through the internet and waited for our clothes to dry. Bean’s father was there too, chatting with the barmaid and watching cricket on the flat screen TV mounted on the wall over the bar. 

The only other people in the little restaurant on the beach were three men I’d never seen before. One of them caught my attention as soon as he walked in, because as he passed my table he slowed, he stared at me hard, and made a hissing noise until I finally looked up. Then he grinned at me and licked his lips.

I was disgusted and annoyed by this, but I ignored it, partly because I’m used to this brand of yuck, but mostly because I know from previous experience that any reaction from me, negative or not, is precisely the kind of attention this guy wanted. I’ve come to tolerate - but never accept - his kind of behavior. 

So I just shook my head slightly, as if to myself, and kept my eyes fastened tightly to my Macbook screen until I heard him walk away. (Ironically, there was a thread that afternoon, here on Tumblr, about men who harass women in public and pretend it’s a compliment.)

Later, I needed some ice and my friend the barmaid was busy in the kitchen, so I went behind the bar to help myself. I ended up standing right in front of the man, but wasn’t about to deny myself ice because of some jerk wearing his testosterone on his sleeve.

“Miss,” he whispered at me, and I kept my eyes pointedly down. 

“Miss,” he insisted, louder this time, and I tore the paper off my straw. 

“Mi-,” he tried one last time, but I cut him off with a “WHAT.”

“You are very beautiful,” he grunted. 

I inclined my chin, the barest of suggestion of a nod, and turned to walk away. 

“Wait,” he called after me. “Aren’t you going to say ‘thank you’?” 

“No.”

“No? So you don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“Beautiful? Whatever. This is not about my self-image. This is about I don’t need or want to hear it from you.” 

I’ll never know what his reaction was to that statement, because I didn’t stay to watch. I felt sick to my stomach; coursing with cortisol. I’ve dealt with unwelcome advances from strangers before, but this - the way he’d demanded I thank him for invading my privacy - was chilling. Scary. 

But he left me alone after that, and Bean’s father was nearby, so there wasn’t, I told myself, any real reason to feel unsafe. We went home soon after. As we left, the man and his two friends were chatting up a couple of tourists, making friends. 

That was Sunday. Monday afternoon Bean’s father came home from work and told me that very late the night before, or perhaps in the first hours of the morning, that same man had raped the female tourist I’d seen him talking to. 

I don’t think there’s any way I could have known, or anything I should have done. Or said. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling sick, guilty and angry, and it never will.

  1. rudums reblogged this from thefistofartemis
  2. janetisserlis said: not guilty. there was no way to prevent that ever. I’m so sorry it happened to you and to her.
  3. powerpuffgrrrlz reblogged this from socialismandrum and added:
    hate unwanted attention.
  4. powerpuffgrrrlz said: one of the many charming aspects of being a woman is all the unwanted attention. it makes me so scared.
  5. ashamedtosay said: I am so thankful you are safe and my heart breaks for the other woman. I am so very thankful you are safe.
  6. nezua said: Heavy.
  7. penbleth said: Firstly, you are not guilty. Secondly, you are not guilty. You were polite but clear. His actions were solely and completely on him.
  8. potjie said: OMG. Awful awful.
  9. anothermommyblog said: how horrible
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