A Week of Sexual Harassment

I still remember the first time I was sexually harassed by a stranger. I was 13, on vacation with my best friend Mandy, and some guy chased us down the pier commenting on our "tits." It was terrifying. This kind of harassment has remained terrifying for the intervening 17 years. I don't think I will ever get used to it.

I often hear from men that they'd love to be constantly complimented by strange women. But street harassment is not a compliment. These men don't, for one second, think I'm going to turn around and ask for their number. In fact, when I do respond to them, most of them become violent or angry. Sexual harassment is a way of controlling and policing women. It requires me to spend more energy doing the same task than it would take my husband or brother. They don't have to answer questions about their clothing or appearance; I do.

I've been meaning to catalog a week of sexual harassment for a while now because I think it might change men's opinion on what it's really like to be a woman in the world. I started doing it a few months ago, then got worried that I'd hear, "well, you were wearing provocative clothing/too much makeup." And so I backed off. But my fear that I'd receive that kind of response is exactly why I need to write this. Atlanta is particularly bad in terms of street harassment, so my experiences may not resonate with everyone, but they're still my experiences. I'm making a note of what I was wearing each day so that I don't have to listen to a bunch of garbage about my clothing or appearance and how they cause me to be harassed.

Monday, January 13
I was wearing professional-ish clothes -- a plain sweater dress that wasn't at all revealing and a miniscule amount of makeup.

• I stopped at Starbucks and made the mistake of going inside instead of driving through the drive-through. As I walked in, a guy held the door for me, then turned, stared at my ass, and proclaimed, "dayyyyyyum". He then grabbed his dick and made a masturbatory gesture in my general direction. 
• When I walked into Quicktrip (local gas station), a guy standing outside the store started screaming things along the lines of "nice tits" to me. I ignored him. When I came out, he chased me to my car, forcing me to run from him. I got into the car and immediately locked the doors. He began pounding on my window, asked me where I worked, then asked if he could fuck me. 
• As I was walking out of the dry cleaners, a group of men in a car began honking their horns, making wolf whistles, and laughing. They were so loud that I jumped and dropped all of my clothes when I heard them. 

Tuesday, January 14

I worked all day, so didn't bother to dress myself (I work from home). Threw on a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt covered in bleach stains, and tied my hair in a literal knot on top of my head. No makeup. 

• As I was walking into the Starbucks inside the grocery store, two guys began shouting at me. They followed me all the way into the store. I've become friends with the barista who works there, so he gave them a dirty look and they ran off. They were waiting for me when I came out, and treated me to more screams. 

Wednesday, January 15

I put some effort into my appearance on Wednesday because I had a lot of errands to run. Moderately low-cut shirt (we're talking the very top of cleavage, not anything crazy) and a loose-fitting skirt. Good bit of makeup. 

• Stopped at CVS and started putting mascara on in the parking lot (I'm efficient, damnit). Guy pulled up next to me, and I could tell he was going to be trouble, so locked the doors. He began waving at me and making smooching sounds. When that failed, he began banging on my car window. I had to leave the drug store. Because I had to go to a different store, I ended up being late for an appointment. 
• Went to Bath and Body Works to get some scent bulbs. A guy walked in with a woman. I prayed she was his wife or girlfriend because he looked like trouble. I was right. He followed me around the store grunting to himself and grabbing his dick. As I walked out of the store, he screamed at me, "Hey baby, can I get your number?" When I ignored him he screamed, "Yeah, well you're a fucking bitch, you cunt."
• By this point I was irate and looking for a fight. I stopped at the post office (please ignore the obvious joke about going postal). As I was walking in, a guy walked past me and said, "You'd be a lot prettier if you smiled." I ignored him, but he persisted, saying, "Come on, baby, smile for me." I got pissed and said, "If it weren't for people like you demanding that I perform on command, I'd probably have something to smile about." He responded, "Someone should teach you a lesson, bitch." I left the post office without mailing my package, and still have not managed to mail it. 

Thursday, January 16

There are some good days in the hell hole that is Atlanta! Not one single instance of sexual harassment. 

Friday, January 17

I did the bare minimum with my appearance this day. A dab of makeup, hair tied in a knot on my head, and some variety of relatively conservative sweater dress. But what you wear doesn't matter when you're getting harassed on the Internet. 

• Got a gig for a magazine article. Tragically, it was short-lived because the "editor" began hitting on me in his first email. 
• On the way into the gas station, two guys started screaming at me from their car, then pulled into the station and continued screaming. Followed me into the store and stood behind me commenting on my ass with such lovely statements as, "Look how it jiggles" and, "Wonder what I could stick in that." 

Saturday, January 18

Jeff and I had a movie and reading day because it was freaking freezing outside. Consequently, I did not leave the house and did not get harassed. Praise be. 

Sunday, January 19

This was a completely lazy day, so I didn't even bother to shower, let alone dress myself. Threw on some sweat pants and a shirt to go get coffee at the Starbucks inside the local grocery store. 

• As I was walking around Kroger, I encountered an employee who had previously sexually harassed me. He began lurking near me, but didn't actually say anything. As I walked down the cereal aisle, a guy walked past me and commented on my ass. I ignored him. He walked past again and slapped my ass. The employee laughed. I walked away and headed over to the Starbucks, at which point the sexual harasser encountered me again. He deliberately walked right into me and grabbed my breasts when he did. I pushed him off and walked away. He began following me around the store screaming, "Hey lady!" 

The simple act of writing this makes me angry. I can't run errands without fear. I have to waste time replying to sexual harassers, devising escape routes, leaving stores, and responding to requests for performance from strangers. It's not a compliment. It's violence.