I’ve lived in Washington Heights for 2 years and I get shouted at at least 5 times a day. I hate, hate, hate these men. I hate the ones who make that weird hissing noise, I hate the ones who honk at me when I cross the street in front of their cars, I hate the ones who follow me down the street yelling things like “Snowflake!”, I hate the ones who block my path on the way home just so they can run their eyes up and down my body like they’re touching it. The eye-rape? I hate it. The lewd bastard who said, “Girl, I wanna lick you,” as I passed him by my stoop? I hate him. Likewise the jackass stranger who thinks I’m going to stop and talk after he says, “I wanna put my face in your ass”. All of you guys. I hate you.
When did it become ok for you to talk to women this way? I wish I were invisible when I walk down the street. I don’t appreciate your comments. I’m not dressed like this for you, alright? I wear skirts when I leave the house because I’m going to work. In an office. (Unlike you guys, who apparently spend all day sitting on stoops. What the hell are you doing out there? You never move! How do you pay your rent?) Would you want someone to talk to your mom or your sister like that, every day?
Let me make this clear once and for all, to the guys who I see on the block and have bullshit conversations with EVERY day-- I will never date you. I will never sleep with you. You ask me out, I say “No,” you say “Then let’s be just friends”, and I say “ok,” and then you keep asking me when I’ll let you take me out. I won’t. Because I don’t consider it friendly when I’m coming home from work at the end of the day and I have to run the sex-harrassment gauntlet, as you deliver such conversational gems as, “I want to grab that fat ass” or “Girl, I’ve got to HAVE you”.
Haven’t you ever heard of the basics? “How are you today”, or “What’s up”, or “Some weather this week”, or “Watch out, that pit bull bites people”? Is it so impossible to carry on a conversation with someone of the opposite sex without hitting on them? I wasn’t interested yesterday, last week, last month, last year. I’m not interested now.
And to the real winners who call me names when I say I’m not interested, let me also say this:
-When I say “I don’t think we have anything in common”, that doesn’t make me a racist. I have no problem dating Black or Hispanic men (or Asian or Indian, or whatever). It’s not a race thing, it’s a “what kind of movies do you like” thing, or a “what kind of books do you read” thing, or a “I think it’s gross that you started this conversation off by talking about how much you want to bone me” thing. When you figure out how to act like an adult, maybe we’ll have a little more in common.
-When you tell me that you’re 22 and have a 5 year-old daughter, and I tell you I don’t date men with kids, and you say that I’m “closeminded” and “shouldn’t hold your past against you”... I’m not. This is another human being we’re talking about, here, isn’t it? It doesn’t go away. Your daughter isn’t just your past, she’s your present and future. She’ll be around for the rest of your life. And if I were willing to date someone with a 5 year-old, it wouldn’t be someone who considered her something “in the past” that he didn’t really have anything to do with. Take some responsibility, for pete’s sake.
And stop yelling nasty things at me. Ask me my name, ask me about my cat, say ANYTHING with a modicum of class. Until then, I hate you more every time you open your foul mouths. I hate you with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. I wish I were thirty feet tall so I could step on you, or at least spray you with Mace...
oh yeah, and I wish I could afford to move.