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For a few paces I ignored him, hoping that he would just go away, which is often how I deal with unwanted male attention. He didn't go away. He said "hi" or something like that, and I glanced to my left to assess him. He was a large white male in his 20s or early 30s, probably 80 lbs heavier than me, with blond spiked hair and glassy eyes. He had a series of chain links, that I think were part of his clothes, draped over his shoulders and around his upper arms. From my quick glance, I determined he was not a homeless beggar, not drunk but potentially on drugs (you can never rule that out), and not your typical (older white male) serial killer. Something about him, maybe just that he started following me, struck me as emotionally disturbed.
Continuing to walk, I replied with a brief "hello" and then fixed my eyes pointedly ahead of me. Saying nothing and being rude felt risky because encounters like these are unpredictable and I didn't want to give him an opportunity to get angry or allow him to think that I was afraid of him, which I wasn't, at least not yet. Eighth Avenue is a fairly busy street, with a fair amount of lights and shops that are open late, and I felt safe for the moment.
Keeping pace with me, he asked, "Hey, would you like to get some coffee or something with me?" I glanced at him again and said, I think with a note of disbelief in my voice - disbelief that he was trying to pick me up while following me down the street in the middle of the night, and disbelief that this interruption was happening while my cheeks were still damp with tears - "No," while shaking my head for emphasis. Not no thanks, just "no" with an inflection of you've got to be crazy if you think any woman would say yes under these circumstances.
What on earth could that guy have been thinking to start following me and then ask me to go out with him? Was I so attractive to him that he couldn't resist? Did he think I was asking for that type of attention in my jeans and shoulder-baring top? Or, did he think I was easy prey because I looked sad and like I had been crying? The last thought gives me shivers.
If he's a psychopath who wanted to do me harm, it makes sense why he was following me. If he's not a psychopath, he's an irresponsible moron, because by now there have been enough Take Back the Nights for men to know that women will likely perceive following them in the middle of the night and approaching them as threatening behavior.
As a woman, I am very aware of the risks involved with walking around the streets of New York at night, and I'm aware that those risks are greater for me because I am a woman than they are for men in general. Not that men don't get assaulted, robbed, murdered, and sometimes raped, because they do. But on average, I have a far greater chance than a man of being the victim of a rape or violent crime, and I tend to be smaller in stature than my potential attackers. That's the reality I face every time I walk home alone, which I did last night.
Fortunately, when I said "no" last night, my pursuer backed off. For a beat or two, he kept pace with me, and I thought I was going to have a problem, but then he slowed down and let me walk ahead. I didn't look back to see if he had really stopped following me. I didn't want it mistaken for interest of any kind. I just pulled out my keys and kept them firmly in hand. Did you know that when you punch someone while gripping an object, such as keys, in your fist, the force of your punch is magnified? I read that once somewhere. Keys would also be a good weapon to use for stabbing someone in the face, eyes, throat, or on the back of their hand. Brutal thoughts, yes, but necessary for survival at times.
When I made the turn down the darker, less busy street that I live on, I allowed myself a quick glance over my shoulder and the coast seemed clear. I walked on the road, away from the shadowy edge where the buildings meet the sidewalk, and I kept my ears alert for the slightest sound of movement behind me. I was so relieved once I had reached my apartment building and locked the door behind me.
This reminds me that I should probably start carrying mace or a panic whistle. Apparently, both are good for fending off bears, as well as human males. Good to know.