Oh, Yeah. Last Night...

On my way home from work last night, this fool was yelling at me from across the way.

"Scush me, miss...scush me, miss..."

What was so important that he had to yell at me from across the street? It may have been only 7, but it was dark out and this made me uncomfortable.

"I-DO-NOT-WANT-TO-SPEAK-TO-YOU...LEAVE-ME-ALONE!" I yelled, distinctly and clearly.

He stopped, though I looked behind my shoulder a few times to make sure he didn't try to follow me.

Here's a map so you'll get a perspective of where he was to me when he was yelling like a fool to get my attention:

First DBS Meeting---Saturday, 11/24 Meeting Postponed to 12/1/07

Edited: This meeting is postponed to 12/1/07.

I would love to schedule our first meeting for Saturday, November 24th around mid-to-late afternoon (2:30 or 3:00, for instance). Please sign up for the Yahoo! group (links to do so are in the sidebar and the bottom of the page) if you want to get involved and want more information.

Edited 11/1/07: I see a lot of people coming by to take a look at this message, yet only one person signed up for the group (she was an invite). I know we're not the only ones who want to see an end to street harassment. I once again urge those who want to get involved to sign up for the group.

Times When I Wish I'd Said Something

Bold as I can be, there are times when I wish I would've spoken up. I'm not always slick with a comeback or a way to shut fools up or let them know when their behavior is inappropriate. Here's one of my experiences when I "sat there and took it." It's not "street harassment," per se, but inappropriate behavior nonetheless.

I sometimes act, and last year around this time I was trying to find photographers that did affordable headshots. Places around here are either too expensive or unreliable (one guy I found cancelled on me twice---not worth my time or money). My sister suggested this guy who took shots of her, and I used him. Big mistake.

I get to his house/studio, and I knew it was off to a rough start. "I forgot you were coming!" he said. Not cool.

I sit and wait for him to set up, and he goes on and on about some video vixen that he took shots of recently, talking about how "built" she was. He tries to show me photos of her but I am disinterested.

Five minutes in, this guy is asking me out on a date. Mind you he's about 15-16 years older than me. He hadn't even started taking photos yet! At this moment I should've upped and left but I needed headshots badly.

"Sir," I said (emphasis on "sir"). "You're my photographer. I don't feel comfortable with that." That was timid and weak of me. If I could go back in time I'd pull myself out of that situation.

Instead of realizing how inappropriate he was, he starts to complain. "All y'all sistahs complain about wantin' a 'good brotha,' but all y'all really want are the thugs," he whines. Huh?! This man doesn't know a damn thing about me, doesn't know my name (he either called me by the wrong name or totally blanked on it throughout the day), but asked me out on a date and makes these invalid assumptions about me---BULLSHIT!

Other things he asked that were inappropriate were if I had a boyfriend and had kids. My response was "Why do Black men always think that Black women have kids? Why even ask that?" His lame response was that since my sister does (I have two sisters, and he mixed them up as well) he thought I did. Oh, the shame.

So finally he starts taking my photos but the phone rings and he starts to talk inappropriately to someone about the video vixens and Paris Hilton-types at a party he took photos of the previous night. N-word this, bitch that. I walked away---not out the door, but away. Two strikes for me. He got the hint ("I have a client here so I'll talk to you later") and continued taking my photos.

In the room I changed in there were clown wigs, Rasta dread wigs, and video vixen photos. Ugh.

The ordeal was close to over but he made me take more photos (my heart wasn't in it anymore---it never was), and some woman closer to his age came to work on his website. I sat and waited for him to airbrush my shots, but two was enough for me.

"That's it, I only want those two," I said.
"Just two? I can do them all," he replied.
"Two's fine," I said.

He prints out two off-color shots (I was wearing a green shirt in one, but it printed out teal), I take them and the master CD and prepare to leave.

"Next time, we'll do black and white shots," he says.
"Yeah," I said.
"And let my make-up artist work on you next time," he says. "She can hook your make-up and hair up!"
"Yeah," I said.

I left out of there so fast. There was going to be no "next time." Being asked out on a date and assumed of liking "thugs" and having kids was rude, unprofessional and inappropriate. So was his going on and on about video vixens and their behaviors and bodies. It hurt to, as usual, not get support from family. When I was needing more shots months later, my mother said I should consider going to him again. I had to keep my cool there.

So there's a lesson I've learned. Being respected is more important than a damn headshot. That behavior was not worth my time or money. I will never let some horndog creep ever intimidate me again---and I haven't since.

I still don't have new headshots, but fine by me. At least I got my voice back.

War Zone

In 1998, Maggie Hadleigh-West took a video camera to aim at her harassers and created the film War Zone. I am glad to have these pitful losers know what it feels like to have the spotlight on them for once.

In the same token, it is nearly impossible to catch these men completely in the act with a visible camera (a few men did get caught making kissing noises, whistling, and one was even jacking off). Some are going to show off for the cameras (with the lame idea that they're getting fifteen minutes of fame) or will try to save face. The only way to truly catch them in the act is with a hidden camera, but that's not gonna happen because the harassers would call that a violation of their rights.

Anyway, watch a bunch of harassers get embarrassed.



Edited to add:

Here's another clip from War Zone, with different men involved (the second guy tries to explain why he harasses, but digs himself into a bigger hole), and Hadleigh-West's boyfriend is shown at the end, who gives her hope that there are good men out there who care about women's safety and rights.

New DBS Yahoo! Group Started

I just created a new group on Yahoo! It'll make it easier to communicate with one another and get the ball rolling. There are links to join the group in the sidebar and on the bottom of the page.

Thanks to all who join the group.

Just Another Day...of Street Harassment

I can't leave my house to run a few errands without being harassed by annoying men!

Barely a block away from my house, a Rasta-looking fool said "Hey babe!" from the passenger side of a parked van.

"'Hey babe'?" I said in disgust. "How about 'Hey miss' or 'ma'am'?"

All that fool did was give me a shit-eating grin.

Walking past Get'n'Gear Motors on the corner of 12th NE and Otis NE (which ironically is where the middle-aged men tried to "holla" at me in this previous story), I hear "there's your buddy!" and laughter.

I tried to ignore it, but they repeated it. It's hard to fight human instinct, and I turned my head towards it. There was a man with yet that same shit-eating grin, another guy who was wearing a dingy undershirt with a large tear in it, another man, and worst of all, an older woman who was maybe in her 60s, with her wig looking polished and looking like she should've been in church. They all broke into laughter.

"Your buddy's lookin' at you!" the guy continued to yell. More laughter.

"Fool, please!" I yelled. I am tired of this mess! "If you want to get my attention you say 'Excuse me miss' or 'ma'am'! I am not 'your buddy'! I don't know you!" I tried to walk away, but they wanted to continue with the joke.

"Excuse me miss or ma'am," the ringleader said. More laughter.

Hell no. I marched back up there. "Do you see me smiling?" I said. "I don't find this funny!"

The laughter stopped. The smirks faded.

"You have no respect for women," I said.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "Let me start over, my name is---"
"I don't want to get to know you!" I said. "You missed your chance. Let this be a learning experience for you. The next time a woman walks by, don't make fun of her. Just say 'Excuse me miss.' Let this be a lesson for you."

Finally I walked off, and not one of them tried to sass me back or break into laughter. I highly doubt any of this would ruin Get'n'Gear Motors' business (it's one of those neighborhood rinky-dink auto shops), but at least they had their lesson for the day of how not to treat people.

It is not about me "not having a sense of humor." I do. I just know when and where to use it. Had I known these people already and they said that, I would've laughed and said, "How are you, Mr. ___________?" and gone from there. But these people got too personal too quickly without getting to know me. Not cool at all.

And on my way back, the "loitering losers" were once again trying to call to me. Ignoring them wouldn't work, because even though I was halfway down the street, they kept calling to me.

"If I wanted to respond to you, I would've done so the first or second time!" I yelled. "Quit calling to me!"

They shut up.

So I'm back home and a frazzled mess. I'm tired of being harassed while WWF---walking while female. None of my family or acquaintances understand the magnitude of this. Many think I ask to be harassed.

My mother will relay the same story to me about how she was harassed when she was younger, and how now she'll smile if a man asks her to or respond even if they say "hey, baby" just to avoid inciting them. I tried to explain to her that it's not right but she refuses to see eye to eye. It's a generational difference, I guess.

When relaying my stories, some people ask "what are you wearing?" or "how do you carry yourself?" as if any of that matters. I'm sick of that "blame the victim" idealism.

What I would love to achieve is to be able to run errands, take a walk, check my mail, hang out with friends, go out dancing, etc., without being harassed. I don't think it's too much to ask for.

Feeling Drowsy and Down

I was in one of those down moods yesterday (maybe it's the weather). I had little reaction to the stuff that normally annoys me because I just didn't have the energy. However, I always have the energy to speak up against street harassment.

When leaving the train station on the way home, some clown was like "mmmmmmmmm" at me. I responded back with "ugh!"

I walked past that bus stop/park on my way home, and loitering losers (who have been featured numerous times on DBS) were out there hanging out. I know they weren't waiting for the bus because four of them were off-schedule and came bunched together. Those clowns are so pathetic, loitering out there in the rain.

The street I walk on is diagonally next to the park, so I'm walking away from them at an angle.

"Whoo-oo-hoo!" I hear. I try to ignore it, but it's impossible.
"Whoo-oo-hoo!" I hear again. Okay, I gotta say something.

"That is not the way you get a woman's attention," I said. "You say 'Excuse me miss' or 'ma'am.' Learn some respect."

And wouldn't you know it? They were stunned into silence.

I wish there were a way I could get those men to stop hanging out around there. I'm sure if I tried to bring this up to the police they'd say "it may be a bus stop but it's a park as well, and they have the right to be there." People have the right to use the park, but not as a hangout to harass women.

I hope this weather clears up, as well as the problem with street harassment. Ridiculous.

Short But Never Sweet (10/24/07)

I haven't had too many instances of harassment lately, but the few I did annoyed me.

Monday after tae kwon do, a group of Metro workers (clad in fluorescent vests) came onto the train platform. One of them, a short troll of a man with pitted and weathered skin, approached me. I've been using my headphones a lot lately, and it's deterred many of these losers from trying to approach me or talk to me. Unfortunately I didn't pull them out of my bag in time, and...

"Would you like to work for Metro?" he asked me, then snickered. His buddies thought this was so funny. I knew he wasn't sincerely asking me to work for Metro because 1) it was 8 at night and 2) this fool couldn't think of any other reason to approach me sincerely.

"Hell no!" I said, not trying to hide my annoyance.
This got a rise out of his group.
"Why not? You'll get to ride for free!" More snickering.
"I don't care!" I yelled. "Look, you picked the wrong person to start a conversation with because I'm not in the mood to be bothered with anybody."
I finally found my headphones, put them on, and Troll Man walked away, but not without a gross smirk. On the job, people...on the job! These men have no shame.

And yesterday afternoon, at the corner of N and 31st, I stopped to wait for this dreadlocked fool in a white car to turn right. He acted like he was turning right, but instead did a left and did a circle in the intersection. I shook my head in disbelief. This fool thought my shaking my head at him was a signal for him to talk to me.

"'Ey, boo! Boo, can I talk to you?" I cannot stand being called "boo," "boo-boo," or any other made-up word by some man who needs to get Hooked on Phonics. I ignored him and headed towards my destination. I turned around to make sure he wasn't trying to follow me, and the fool was halfway down the street---he didn't even wait for a response.

It reminds me of walking down U towards Adams Morgan a year or so ago. Some teenaged boy was coming towards me.

"Girl, can I talk to you?" he asked...but kept walking. Stuff like that and the car story make me think that these men are conditioned to act like idiots. They don't care about the response just as long as "can I talk to you?" comes out of their mouths. (rolls eyes)

Street Harassment Survey

A GWU grad student did a survey on street harassment for her Master's thesis. Here are the survey's results.

I've read through it and found some of the answers, like education being the key factor to stopping harassment before it starts awesome ideas, but other answers are so callous, ignorant and sarcastic. The same person made hateful comments such as [paraphrases] "have better-looking guys harass them so they'll like it more," "stop calling everything 'harassment," "I threatened to report them to an ugly professor," and that only "racist White women who hate Blacks tell their stories." Horrible. That person was bored online and instigating. Not cool.

Someone also stated that they felt DBS was a useless site...I'm sorry that person feels that way. My question to you is this:

How can I improve this site to make it better?

Stunned Into Silence

This just in from an anonymous contributor:

Hi, Please make this post anonymous due to protect the company's identity and myself. It has nothing to do with the company, but I was on the job while it happened.

Today I was running an errand for the office. I had to go to the Sprint store to get some supplies for our boss. Coming back from the store, I walked down K Street. I know K Street has been known for its horrible political corruption, but this is something new. Standing at a stop light waiting for it to say go, I heard a group of men walk up to the corner and started chatting. As the light hit go and pedestrians made it across the street before the light hits red, I heard the men behind me begin to say the crudest things.

Man 1: Oh look at that.
Man 2: At what?
Man 1: The girl in the black shirt...man I wish I could tap that.
Man 2: Yea I bet you she's good in bed.

I wasn't dressed in any way that would provoke these men to say ANYTHING, good or bad. Just dressed in jeans, heels and a black tee shirt. I was infuriated. Speechless to say the least. I didn't know how to approach the situation because these were educated grown men. They should know better. But they don't. Walking on the street by myself I didn't want to engage with a group of disgusting men. In retrospect, I wish I had not become so infuriated, embarrassed, and stormed off. I really wish I had the courage to voice up and say that this is not okay. It really is not okay on any level.

What gives these men the right to speak their dirty thoughts out in the open like that? Some things are better left unsaid---hell, those thoughts shouldn't even come up, period. The contributor was just trying to do her job and she didn't need punk-ass clowns degrading her like that. I wish a group of women would flip the switch on those men, like I did on Labor Day with that loser who got too close and rambled about how sexy I was. I flipped the switch and told him how "ugly" he was which humiliated him as much as he humiliated me when he objectified me.

A lot of contributors wish they would've had the right words to handle the situation, but there are no wrong or right ways of handling it. You can only act according to how you feel at the moment. When it comes to dealing with irrational and unpredictable idiot men, sometimes silence is the best answer.

Articulating Her Thoughts

An anonymous contributor wanted to share her story:

I have been hooked on your website for months now, and have been thinking for weeks how to organize my thoughts and experiences into some kind of coherent form to share with you and the other readers. My boyfriend has become an avid reader of your site too and needless to say, has been disgusted by the stories and angry about what he sees me (and women like me) go through on the streets of DC. (I had to keep him, a respectable and articulate guy, out of a fight this summer on my behalf.) I too want to do something, more than just vent - I mean, I want to organize a coalition, talk to Mayor Fenty - anything. You are right - it is too much for one woman, but we all need to get together and let these creeps know the street is public property, and we should not be targets of their "interest" by virtue of the fact that we have places to go. Word.

Since moving to DC from California a year ago I have been stunned by the effect the street harassment has had on my everyday life. I too procrastinate running errands, and sometimes even leaving the comfort of my apartment, because of the constant, scary harassment from men. You have this everywhere in the world to some extent, but in this country I have never experienced anything like DC harassment and men calling attention to me, invading my space, and being nasty while I am minding my own business. I see these loitering punks on Irving Street NW by the Columbia Heights Metro on the way to work every morning and every night when I return home. I see them in the park at the triangle intersection of 16th/Mt. Pleasant/Columbia NW. They pop out when I'm shopping, or walking in Adams Morgan, grabbing at me, trying to get my attention, staring, shouting questions. I am a well-dressed, well-educated person - do they think I am going to walk over and say hi when they act like that?? Dream on. Men don't have to be totally deferential or keep their eyes down in the street, but there is a difference between expressing interest in a woman and making her fear for her personal space and safety!!

I just bought a digital camera today - don't be surprised if you get some shots of the aforementioned punks sooner than later. I commend you for what you're doing. You're not alone - don't be discouraged on the days that you don't get positive feedback. And I'm on board to take the next step and get elected officials involved, if possible, because the right place for street harassment is nowhere, least of all in our nation's capital. Keep on keepin' on, and assert yourself when you judge that it won't jeopardize you further...

Contributor, thank you so much for your message. Each time I feel down about street harassment, someone speaks out and makes me realize that I'm not alone. And feel free to send those photos of these losers to DBS. Those punks need to be put out there and embarrassed. I'm also glad that you're another ally in the fight against street harassment.

I'd like to arrange to have a meeting some time next month...I'll keep everyone posted. Enough is enough when it comes to dealing with this mess on the streets.

A big F*** YOU to harassers in the DC area.

Dear Harassers,

I'd love to thank you for making my life miserable. Because of you I dread leaving the house, am always tense and am ready to snap at any given moment. Because of you, I refuse to talk to any men, regardless of whether their intentions are good. Because of you, I have to re-route my journey home to avoid you. Because of you, I feel self-conscious, aggravated, miserable and a nervous wreck. So a huge FUCK YOU to all of you. FUCK YOU for making me feel lower than shit. FUCK YOU for thinking that women's rights are a joke. FUCK YOU for making real men who respect women look bad. FUCK YOU for getting away with your bullshit.

I'm sure you'll never see this message because you're too busy hanging out on street corners or driving around in your cars harassing women like me, but man did it feel good to let that anger out.

Sincerely,
A woman who doesn't take your shit
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Today was not my day (when is it ever with street harassment?). I wore my "Don't Call Me Baby" shirt, a shirt I've worn many times before. Reactions are hit or miss. Today was nothing but misses.




A crazy homeless guy stood next to me laughing like a nut. I walked away from him to leave him to his devices.

I went to Popeye's for dinner today, and this group of punk-ass kids were coming out of it. I was not only outnumbered (four to one) but these were big kids. The boys were about 6'3'' each and built like football players, and the girl was 5'9'' and really husky. (None of them looked like they should've been eating Popeye's, but I digress.)
"Yo, sex-ay!" one of the boys yelled at me. I felt disgusted. Getting hit on by boys a decade younger than me revolts me.
"Ugly!" I yelled back.
"Her shirt say 'Don't Call Me Baby,'" the same boy said. "Bay-bay!"
These kids then started laughing and making non-sequitur cracks like a bunch of lunatics.
"Take your crazy asses back home to your mothers," I said, while entering the restaurant. Losers.

At the grocery store not too far from Popeye's, the idiot ringing my groceries up read my shirt. "'Don't Call Me Baby'...okay, baby!" he said with a laugh.
"Not funny," I said. "Finish doing your job so I can get out of here."

And going down the escalator in the train station, some dork wouldn't stop staring at me.
"Stop staring," I said. "It's not cool." At least he followed directions.

At least my idiot co-worker didn't make that dorky joke he tends to make when I wear the shirt: "What if your mother or grandmother calls you 'baby'?" he says with a guffaw. I give him a dirty look and he'll stop.

I think with my shirt, idiots are only going to see the front and not the message on the back: "Fight Street Harassment." They're only going to see what they want to see and make commentary from that. It's like my brief experiment with the porno cards: idiots will only look at the front ("Hey...wanna get laid?") and not the back ("Then stop harassing women!!!"). Dummies want validation to be dumb and they'll completely miss the lesson.

I realize that I'll get more attention than normal when I wear the "Don't Call Me Baby" shirt, but I refuse to stop wearing it. More and more fools who harass women will see the full message and start to get the point. And if you want a shirt similar to mine, you can have one custom made at sites like Zazzle.
_________________________________________________________________________

The walk home was annoying as usual. Men found it appropriate to yell at me from their cars, honk their horns, etc. But one instance will have a "happy ending."

Some clown in the passenger side of a van was yelling junk at me. Out of reaction I yelled "damn, fool."
Guy in the passenger side gets mad. "What you say? Huh? What you say?"
These punks were so stupid. As I continued to walk (yeah, I was really going to stand around and let them try to grab me or something [rolling eyes]) I noticed that 1) it was another Comcast van and 2) this time I could see the license plate. I started reciting the license plate out loud, and as soon as I was safe from the punks I wrote it down. Since I couldn't get in touch with someone via phone or e-mail at Comcast, I will have to make a trip down there myself. These punk men have to learn that this behavior is not acceptable---on duty or off!
________________________________________________________________________

Even on days when I'm not wearing the "Don't Call Me Baby" shirt, I still feel like I'm being singled out by harassers. What is it about ME personally that makes me a target of this bullshit? I'll get depressed because I see young women who are happy. They walk with confidence and demand respect. They get positive male attention and have boyfriends. People tell me that if I do the same then I'll get positive attention from guys as well. But it's a catch-22 and it's hard to feel strong and confident 100% when the worst of DC are the only ones paying me attention. Another thing I notice is that confident and happy women are rarely solo. 99% of the time I'm on my own. I don't really have a lot of friends and confidantes in this city, but I am not one to "sit around and wait for it" to come my way. It really is a catch-22---more good people would gravitate to me if I felt good about myself, but it's hard to feel good about myself when I'm being harassed.

I'm hurt, frustrated, and am in a rut with this nonsense. 'Til tomorrow.

Ooh child, things are gonna get easier...ooh child, things will get brighter...

Don't Touch Me!

There were no BéBé's or other obnoxious people on my train ride home from dance last night and it was a relaxing ride home. Regardless, I sensed something would happen.

As I walked up the steps to exit the station, some teenage kid was coming down the stairs. I thought he'd pass me and keep on going, but no. He thought it'd be cute to pinch me in the crook of my left arm with his two knuckles and go "'Ey ma, whaddup."

You don't go around touching women you don't know in that intimate way...hell no! He got cursed out.

"I don't fucking know you," I said. "You don't touch me like that. You don't fucking know me! What gives you the right to touch me like that?!"

This kid seemed shocked that I was angry. I hope it eventually gets through his head that you need to get to know a person first, then decide if it's okay to get physically intimate. He definitely crossed a personal boundary with me.

I need to brush up on Spanish...and other stories

...because the number of non-English/broken English speaking men who harassed me this past Saturday was ridiculous.

After this past Saturday, I will never set foot in Wheaton again. Not only is it the headquarters for all the loud, obnoxious and poorly-behaved BéBé's Kids to hang out at, this is also the hub for all the street harassers.

As I walked the couple of blocks to the thrift store, I walked past a guy who was hanging with his "homies." He came too close to me with his arms open as if he wanted to embrace me.

"Hey bebby [sic]," he said with a thick accent. "Come and talk to me." His friends thought it was so funny.
"You're too close, loser," I said.
"Aw...come on!" he pleaded.
"Get your ugly ass away from me!" I yelled. I don't know how I got away from that one.

Heading towards the train station after I finished thrift shopping, I walked past another guy who acted like he was going to proceed past me, but also came too close and said "hey ma...what up?" in broken English.

"Back the hell up off me!" I yelled.
"Fuck you, bitch," he said. Yes, I'm sure he gets a lot of women with his coming too close then insulting them when they tell him to back off.

I went to the Giant in Brentwood after, and this flock of Latino laborers were hanging out in the parking lot. This time, more Spanish was involved.

"Mi amor, mi amor, mi amor!" the one guy said, once again coming too goddamn close and doing overdramatic romantic gestures. His amigos thought it was hilarante...I thought it was disgusto.

Going through my head trying to remember the Spanish 101 and 102 I learned in college, I could only think of one thing:

"Feo, feo, feo!" I yelled, pointing at him. ("Ugly, ugly, ugly!")
"Mi, feo?" he asked.
"Si," I said.
This made him start speaking in English and insulting me.
"Fuck you, you're ugly," he said.
"So I go from being 'your love' to the ugliest woman you've spoken to?" I scoffed. "Man, you are stupid. Estupido!"

I walked away while he kept screaming "bitch!" and other insults at my back.

None of my reactions to the idiocy of these men worked. It just agitated them and made it riskier for me. I feel more confident when speaking up against English-speaking harassers, but totally lose it when dealing with Spanish-speaking ones. So I'm opening this post up for suggestions. If you know any ways of putting Spanish-speaking harassers in their place, please send those ideas this way!

___________________________________________________

I guess I should've been "grateful" (insert eyeroll here) that the rest of my harassers spoke English that day. I got off the train and two teenage boys were rapping then crowding around me (a common theme around these punk-ass men and boys!). The one rapped "Yo ma, I don't got your numba so I can sto' it in my phone." I looked at him with disgust and said "leave me the hell alone, man." A group of college kids on their porch witnessed his getting dismissed and laughed.

And ten minutes from my house, a group of middle-aged men were hanging out in a truck parked outside an auto shop across the street from me. They kept yelling to get my attention and wouldn't let up. After a long day of being harassed by loser men I snapped:

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! If I wanted to talk to you I would've responded by now! I don't want to talk to old-ass men yelling at me from across the street!"

That stunned them into silence...good.

Where are these men learning that this nonsense and behavior works? Crowding around a woman they don't know from Eve to physically intimidate her, insulting her and yelling from across the street DO NOT WORK! Men, if you are sincerely trying to find a woman, for the love of god find better tactics of doing such. But if you're just doing this stuff to show your masculinity and show off for your friends, then you seriously need to get a life.

I came home furious that day. I hit my inflatable punching bag a few times, but nothing released the anger I felt. If I could hit those men I'd feel better, but then I'd be the one getting in trouble and I don't want to give them that satisfaction. I tell you, these men must feel low as dirt if they need to intimidate and mistreat women the way they do.

There are times when I question why I have this blog. I sometimes feel that I've taken on too much. I just want to go about my day-to-day life, I didn't want to become a martyr. But when my day-to-day life involves being harassed by asshole men, then it's really hard to ignore. So for the time being, this blog will go on.

And I still want to have a meeting in the future. I have not forgotten that.