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Sure. Grab my breasts and ass. I’m walking down the street. I deserve it.

July 14, 2012
Lady, lady, lady

Walking with a vagina is totally dangerous. Where is her escort!?

Rape. I like to type about it. To highlight my rape typing adoration I’m going to blog about rape’s second cousin: public groping and flashing.

Guys (or girls) are groping people in public, like, all the time. And no, I’m not referring to the consensual, “hey, baby. I’ve had two triple vodka tonics, and I’d like you to finger me on the dance floor,” public play. But the disgusting, creepy groping that just happens.

I type “just” because I’ve been publicly groped twice. It “just” happened. Also: a man flashed me his penis when I was 13.

Yuck, right?

A man flashed me while sitting in a hot tub, alone, at a hotel. I was on a family vacation and completely nerdy and innocent. A 40-something man sat across from me and smiled. When I looked back at him I noticed his penis hanging out of his shorts. I thought he wasn’t aware of the “unveiling” at the time, but when I think back, I know he was. He was smiling. Constantly readjusting. And staring.

The first time someone enjoyed my lady fruit for free (in public) was at the Replay during the Surfer Blood show. The mostly male dance floor was all about grabbing my tits while I walked to the disgusting toilet that smelled of sewage and months old latex condoms. I yelled, “go fuck yourself, assholes,” but those types of words typically don’t matter to a group of Bud-drunk (because these guys weren’t your typical Pabst drinking crowd), self-loving assholes.

The second time I was walking with a boy. We were going to the Red Lion in Lawrence, Kan., to play darts, drink shitty wine (me) and New Castle (him), eat Tabasco-laden popcorn, and have a chill evening. On our way to the bar a skinny (as in, “where’s my syringe so I can shoot some heroin while I snort it”), twitchy guy approached us. When my boy and I walked past the sketchy fellow, the needle-seeker reached back and groped my ass, laughed, and said, “yeah, bitch.”

I felt infuriated. I saw red. But from the look of this young man, I had a feeling he was up to no good. I worried if I screamed, yelled, or reacted, my male buddy would have approached this scum and got himself punched, knifed, or shot. So I told my boy all about the walk-by groping when we got to the bar. He was equally infuriated. He was furious. Mad. He let the incident ruin the night. No fun was had.

I mention these three incidents because of a few recent bits of related news:

First this:

“I was in Dupont Circle at 3:30 pm yesterday and was sexually assaulted while walking. In my hometown, in a nice neighborhood, in broad daylight, in public. I’m a city girl; I walk fast and have rules. A man pulled up behind me on his bicycle and reached up my skirt. He put his finger into my vagina through my underwear. He laughed and biked away. That was it. No 10-5, no catcall. No exchange. I didn’t see his face. At least when I was robbed at gunpoint, I knew who to look for on the street.”

– via The Washington Post, and Ann Friedman

And this:

“Daniel Tosh was wrong, of course, to say that it would be “funny” if a particular woman in his audience got gang-raped. So he “apologized”.

Annnnd this:

“It Happened to All of Us: Why Casual Sexual Assault Needs to Stop Being ‘Just One of those Things’”

Rape, non-consensual penetration, and public flashing aren’t hilarious. None of these things are fun! And, guys and ladies: unless you’ve been raped by someone, or by multiple people, let’s stop the rape jokes. Once you’ve been raped, let me know if it’s funny! Also: stop flashing underage people and grabbing asses and bodies in public. It’s bad manners.

Shame.

Image: FashionByHe

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. September 30, 2012 8:38 pm

    This happened to me in the 70s when I was a teenager. Like most teen girls back then, I was wearing skin-tight jeans and thinking back, I remember that the outline of my “lady parts” was visible – my mother used to complain about it but I ignored her. Anyway, I was walking down a crowded street in broad daylight with two friends in a bad part of town (to go to a summer class), which I was not used to, and I was already petrified. A man walked towards us reached over and grabbed my crotch area as he passed – it was very brief. Some instinct told me not to react so I acted like I hadn’t noticed and kept walking. To this day I don’t know if my friends noticed, and I never discussed this with anyone until now. Now I know that I probably should not have been wearing my pants so tight that my anatomy was so visible, and I know that that’s probably what provoked that man to grab me, but still – he should not have done that. I immediately felt anger that someone would feel that they had the right to do that and also anger at myself that I didn’t say or do anything but just kept walking like nothing happened.

  2. Abbie Stutzer permalink
    October 3, 2012 8:41 pm

    Thank you so much for sharing! Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself for it, the guy was a complete jerk. But I know what you mean. It’s really easy to go back and think about all the things I could have done different in my situations, but the more I think about it, the more I think it was someone taking advantage of a situation (basically, a girl walking by.)

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