Being a young woman living in New York, you develop a tolerance to being hit on 12 times a day. It kind of just becomes a part of your daily routine, and you don’t really think anything about it when it happens.
Most of the time the creepers just cat-call at you, or wish you a good day, or wish the blessings of God upon you. But every once in a while, you get the mega-creepers, the ones who feel it’s their duty to ask you out on a date.
Take last Wednesday, for example. There I was sitting quietly in Borders, skimming through the newest addition to the ‘Sookie Stackhouse’ novels. Rule number one of avoiding creepers: never make eye-contact. Unfortunately, I did by accident, and over he came to sit down next to me on the rather small bench I was perched upon.
Thankfully, this has happened to me so many times that I didn’t think twice about it, and I smiled at him, expectantly waiting to hear all the questions I already knew he was going to ask. I think this action alone scared him a little. He asked me my name, I told him he didn’t need to know that. He said did that mean he couldn’t ask me out to sushi sometime. I said, no, I have a boyfriend. This is a lie, but it completed my tactics of intimidation, and away he ran.
Ha-HAH! I am woman, hear me roar. It made me feel pretty good to know that I can successfully defend myself (if only verbally), and not tolerate any creepers.
Have you ever been creeped on by a creepy creep?