The Argument Over Street Harassment



Courtesy of Cats Against Catcalling

After a male friend said, "Nice glasses" to a woman as we walked by he asked me if that was harassment. Recently, and repeatedly, I've called him out on his behavior in the street. He harasses women. He doesn't see it as such. The latest explanation from him to me was that woman like the attention and if they don't want it or don't want anyone to say anything to them they should stay home.


This is where I grind my teeth, clench my fists...


He continued: that those women should go home and play with themselves because if you (meaning men) don't say anything to them, they get an attitude that no one is paying attention to them. I countered that motherfuckers who harass women are the ones who need to go play with themselves because it's sexual harassment; it's a need to objectify and gain power or even a release over these women.


This is where he says I'm getting all feminist on him.

Pain, Pain, Go Away

I've had a uterus my entire life. We've had a very amicable relationship. At about 3 pm on Monday afternoon something upset her. She slowly grew enraged. But I was weathering her storm. At about 8 o'clock while I was trying to wind down she was just getting started. I text a friend about these newfangled pains I was experiencing. I wasn't doubled over but was definitely uncomfortable. They say it helps to talk about your problems; you gain insight on how to manage them, solve them or perhaps they'll even go away. I don't remember when I dozed off but at about 11pm I was woken by CM Punk screaming into the pipe bomb and my uterus screaming louder. What the what? I made myself a little more comfortable but was determined to sleep this off like I could sleep off other pains.


Shame on me for not having any pain meds at home but I'm rarely in pain. Moaning and whimpering, I stumbled around my bedroom at about 2:30ish in the morning. Pain blurred my vision. Pain made me sweat. Not doubled over in pain, uh, Abigail? Merely uncomfortable, Missy? I slumped over the bathroom sink for a while when a wave of nausea hit me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's nausea and vomiting. That was the push I needed. I swallowed hard and had a heart-to-heart with the grimace in the mirror. I needed meds. But I couldn't walk straight due to the pain (my vagina was now singing backup). Never in my life had I experienced pain like this. Who are these women who deal with this every month?

The Time I Felt I Couldn't Hollaback

Bumper Sticker by Holly Kearl

On my way home after a wonderful night, two men took it upon themselves to ruin my mood. Friday evening, I had a great time at Word Up pop-up bookshop. I read that evening, listened to other authors, poets and musicians, and after the event, spent time with a new acquaintance.


The train ride home was uneventful. Not one drunk or vagabond to speak of. The train made all stops. It was a little after 4am on Saturday morning before I got back to my neighborhood. I've done this a million times before. About a block away from the train station a car pulled up along side the parked cars, slowing to about 5 miles an hour to keep pace with me. The passenger called out to me something to the effect that I shouldn't be alone and asked if he could walk with me. I knew the tone. He wasn't trying to be a gentleman. I kept pace and looked sidelong at him. He continued to speak but rage was drowning out whatever he was saying.