you a good sport? harassment/streetfight content
last tuesday night, i found myself sitting in front of taqueria on 7th ave waiting for a table with four friends. it was taking an unusually long time - the restaurant was really busy - but i was having a fine time just sitting on the bench catching up with some people i hadn't seen in awhile. there was a line at the counter starting to creep out the door, and a guy walked up to get in the end of it whom i recognized. i pointed him out to my boyfriend, who was sitting a few people down from me on the bench: "hey, that's 'good sport'," i said, nodding at him. my boyfriend looked up and saw him just as my other friend asked me, "what do you mean, good sport?"
so i told her the story, loudly, so that everyone standing in line - including him - could hear.
this guy had, on multiple occasions over the past year or so, followed me into businesses here in the neighborhood. the first time, he came up behnd me in the met on vanderbilt, got up real close to me, and started hitting on me. he was about as tall as me, leaning in close to explain to me that he wasn't even there to shop, he was just there to *talk* to me. i was just trying to buy my groceries, but this guy wasn't having it. i might have brushed it off as just another random harassment incident, the kind that millions of women have to deal with everyday - what if i don't want to talk to you about my sex life while i'm trying to buy some soymilk? - but when i left the store, thinking i had left him behind, he suddenly pulled a u-turn in the middle of vanderbilt, pulling his car over to the curb and leaning toward the passenger window. "you were a good sport, though! a good sport," he yelled at me. a little old woman, carrying her groceries home the same as i was, looked at me, rolled her eyes, and said, "lucky you."
i was pretty flabbergasted that this guy had gone to such lengths - he had to have pulled his car over to follow me into the store - just to come harass me. i told the story to a few friends, and figured that was the end of it.
and it was, for a few months, at least. but one morning i was walking down sterling - my usual route to prospect perk, on the way to the subway - when some guy came out of his house and gave me a look as he turned on to the sidewalk in front of me. when he started the intentional slowdown, so that i would have to catch up with him, i picked up my pace and passed him, but he stayed right behind me and came into prospect perk. i ordered an iced coffee, and he ordered something after i did, and while i was reaching for a straw, he came over and brushed up against me, saying something about giving him a straw. i probably nodded, or smiled, or something, and pushed past him and out the door. he quickly followed, and caught up to me walking down flatbush, talking about how good i looked, yada yada. when i had finally brushed him off as politely as possible, and was preparing to turn the corner toward the subway, he stopped, and turning toward me, told me, "well, you're a good sport, though. a good sport." it hit me that this was the same guy, and that this was a well-used routine for him. i went home, told my boyfriend, and told him that i'd point him out the next time i saw him in the neighborhood. i stopped walking on that side of sterling so that i wouldn't have to run into him, and went to the coffee shop much less frequently.
back to taqueria: so, i'm telling this story about 10 feet away from him, gesturing toward him as he enters the restaurant. a few minutes later, he comes over, and leaning in toward me, tells me to say something to his face if i'm going to say it. "i am," i say, looking up at him. "i'm saying it so loud everyone can hear!" he then tells me that i must be a pathetic, lonely person to have remembered him and remembered these incidents, and informs me that "i can be nice, or i can be nasty" - i guess the following me into stores was the "nice" part? - "i just want you to leave me the hell alone," i say. he says something back, and i repeat my desire for him to leave me alone. as he's getting closer to me, my boyfriend says, from down the bench, "why don't you just leave us alone?"
instantly, this guy is over there, pushing up against my boyfriend, who is still sitting on the bench. he puts out his index and middle fingers - like a kid does when he's playing at having a gun - and puts his hand on my boyfriend's head. "what the fuck did you say to me?" he yells. "i said leave us alone," my boyfriend says back, "i'm not fucking scared of you." he keeps pushing himself onto my boyfriend, and another fried of mine - a sweet, mild mannered guy who works at gorilla - gets up and tries to push him off. then my boyfriend gets up, and they're all pushing at each other. i go over, and try to pull my friend and my boyfriend off - no need for them to be involved in my fight. i step in between my friend and the guy and push him in the chest to get him to back off, and he puts his hands around neck, holding me away while he tightens his grip on my throat.
we began to fight in earnest at this point, and it's all a little hazy. people were standing around, staring as i scuffled with this guy. he was pushing at me, and yelling things at my boyfriend and friend. the struggle pushed into the doorway of taqueria, and i pinned him up against the window by his chest and one wrist, holding him there so he couldn't hit me. i had ripped the front of his shirt and was struggling with him, yelling for someone to call the police. people were backing away, as if this were some gang fight and they were worried they'd be caught in the crossfire - all very reassuring, of course. good to know that a woman can get attacked on the street and people will run and hide in horror.
i had him pinned to the apartment doorway and pushed the restaurant door to my right open with my foot, yelling for someone to please call the police - the guys ordering burritos inside looked like they could have been on a football team, but all they did was push the door back closed and stand there to watch. i was contemplating what i should do, with him pinned there, trying to figure out how this was going to end. i shifted my weight a little - i think i thought i could knee him in the crotch - and, from over my left shoulder, my boyfriend threw a punch at him that hit him square in the jaw. he tried to punch back, and knocked my boyfriend's glasses off, yelling, "you punched me in the face, motherfucker!" i slammed him back up against the door, yelling that he had put his hands around my neck, that he started this fight. finally a woman who had come out of the restaurant was on the phone with the police, and it became clear that the police were coming.
he shook himself loose and took a few steps down 7th ave, pointing at my boyfriend and yelling, "i'll remember you!" i yelled back, raising my hands in the air, "i'm gonna remember you, motherfucker! i know where you live - sterling between flatbush and vanderbilt! every woman in this neighborhood is gonna know where you live! i'm gonna remember YOU!"
he sulked off down the street, his shirt all torn up, and people started coming out of the restaurant, acting as if i had done them some great disservice by being attacked while they were trying to enjoy a nice dinner. meanwhile, the woman who had had the guts to call the cops - who happened to be african american - was explaining to the dispatcher for the 4th time during her call that the guy was white, not black. when the cops finally showed up, they asked us what had happened, sent some other cops down 7th to look for him (they didn't find him) and gave me the, "so, what, he was asking you on a date and you didn't like it?" treatment, smirking the whole time.
so: i'm no longer a "good sport." apparently, in this guy's mind, it's fine for him to say whatever the hell he wants to anyone he wants, or to put his hands on someone, but the minute someone does either of those things back, he freaks out. it was like he snapped - he went from totally fine to overwhelmingly violent in a split second. it made me wonder - what if i hadn't been a "good sport"? what if i had told him to get the fuck away from me from the beginning, in the grocery store? would he have gotten violent with me right there, in front of the cashier? now, i'm not only not walking on sterling between flatbush and vanderbilt (i know his address, and his name, thanks to a neighbor who was at the restaurant and mary at prospect perk) - but i don't feel safe walking anywhere in prospect heights or north slope by myself. what it this guy sees me on the street? what if he sees my boyfriend? i don't pretend for a minute that my ability to fight back against this guy was predicated on anything other than the fact that we were in front of dozens of people. with no one watching, i'm sure i wouldn't be able to hold him back.
this incident vividly reaffirmed for me the simple truth faced by women who deal with sexual/street harassment: either you're a "good sport" and you stand there and take it, or you talk/fight back and you're called a bitch, spit on, threatened, or attacked. the police told me that if he comes near me again, i can get an order of protection against him and he won't be able to come anywhere near me. somehow, it doesn't make walking down the streets of the neighborhood i've lived in for four years any easier.
so i told her the story, loudly, so that everyone standing in line - including him - could hear.
this guy had, on multiple occasions over the past year or so, followed me into businesses here in the neighborhood. the first time, he came up behnd me in the met on vanderbilt, got up real close to me, and started hitting on me. he was about as tall as me, leaning in close to explain to me that he wasn't even there to shop, he was just there to *talk* to me. i was just trying to buy my groceries, but this guy wasn't having it. i might have brushed it off as just another random harassment incident, the kind that millions of women have to deal with everyday - what if i don't want to talk to you about my sex life while i'm trying to buy some soymilk? - but when i left the store, thinking i had left him behind, he suddenly pulled a u-turn in the middle of vanderbilt, pulling his car over to the curb and leaning toward the passenger window. "you were a good sport, though! a good sport," he yelled at me. a little old woman, carrying her groceries home the same as i was, looked at me, rolled her eyes, and said, "lucky you."
i was pretty flabbergasted that this guy had gone to such lengths - he had to have pulled his car over to follow me into the store - just to come harass me. i told the story to a few friends, and figured that was the end of it.
and it was, for a few months, at least. but one morning i was walking down sterling - my usual route to prospect perk, on the way to the subway - when some guy came out of his house and gave me a look as he turned on to the sidewalk in front of me. when he started the intentional slowdown, so that i would have to catch up with him, i picked up my pace and passed him, but he stayed right behind me and came into prospect perk. i ordered an iced coffee, and he ordered something after i did, and while i was reaching for a straw, he came over and brushed up against me, saying something about giving him a straw. i probably nodded, or smiled, or something, and pushed past him and out the door. he quickly followed, and caught up to me walking down flatbush, talking about how good i looked, yada yada. when i had finally brushed him off as politely as possible, and was preparing to turn the corner toward the subway, he stopped, and turning toward me, told me, "well, you're a good sport, though. a good sport." it hit me that this was the same guy, and that this was a well-used routine for him. i went home, told my boyfriend, and told him that i'd point him out the next time i saw him in the neighborhood. i stopped walking on that side of sterling so that i wouldn't have to run into him, and went to the coffee shop much less frequently.
back to taqueria: so, i'm telling this story about 10 feet away from him, gesturing toward him as he enters the restaurant. a few minutes later, he comes over, and leaning in toward me, tells me to say something to his face if i'm going to say it. "i am," i say, looking up at him. "i'm saying it so loud everyone can hear!" he then tells me that i must be a pathetic, lonely person to have remembered him and remembered these incidents, and informs me that "i can be nice, or i can be nasty" - i guess the following me into stores was the "nice" part? - "i just want you to leave me the hell alone," i say. he says something back, and i repeat my desire for him to leave me alone. as he's getting closer to me, my boyfriend says, from down the bench, "why don't you just leave us alone?"
instantly, this guy is over there, pushing up against my boyfriend, who is still sitting on the bench. he puts out his index and middle fingers - like a kid does when he's playing at having a gun - and puts his hand on my boyfriend's head. "what the fuck did you say to me?" he yells. "i said leave us alone," my boyfriend says back, "i'm not fucking scared of you." he keeps pushing himself onto my boyfriend, and another fried of mine - a sweet, mild mannered guy who works at gorilla - gets up and tries to push him off. then my boyfriend gets up, and they're all pushing at each other. i go over, and try to pull my friend and my boyfriend off - no need for them to be involved in my fight. i step in between my friend and the guy and push him in the chest to get him to back off, and he puts his hands around neck, holding me away while he tightens his grip on my throat.
we began to fight in earnest at this point, and it's all a little hazy. people were standing around, staring as i scuffled with this guy. he was pushing at me, and yelling things at my boyfriend and friend. the struggle pushed into the doorway of taqueria, and i pinned him up against the window by his chest and one wrist, holding him there so he couldn't hit me. i had ripped the front of his shirt and was struggling with him, yelling for someone to call the police. people were backing away, as if this were some gang fight and they were worried they'd be caught in the crossfire - all very reassuring, of course. good to know that a woman can get attacked on the street and people will run and hide in horror.
i had him pinned to the apartment doorway and pushed the restaurant door to my right open with my foot, yelling for someone to please call the police - the guys ordering burritos inside looked like they could have been on a football team, but all they did was push the door back closed and stand there to watch. i was contemplating what i should do, with him pinned there, trying to figure out how this was going to end. i shifted my weight a little - i think i thought i could knee him in the crotch - and, from over my left shoulder, my boyfriend threw a punch at him that hit him square in the jaw. he tried to punch back, and knocked my boyfriend's glasses off, yelling, "you punched me in the face, motherfucker!" i slammed him back up against the door, yelling that he had put his hands around my neck, that he started this fight. finally a woman who had come out of the restaurant was on the phone with the police, and it became clear that the police were coming.
he shook himself loose and took a few steps down 7th ave, pointing at my boyfriend and yelling, "i'll remember you!" i yelled back, raising my hands in the air, "i'm gonna remember you, motherfucker! i know where you live - sterling between flatbush and vanderbilt! every woman in this neighborhood is gonna know where you live! i'm gonna remember YOU!"
he sulked off down the street, his shirt all torn up, and people started coming out of the restaurant, acting as if i had done them some great disservice by being attacked while they were trying to enjoy a nice dinner. meanwhile, the woman who had had the guts to call the cops - who happened to be african american - was explaining to the dispatcher for the 4th time during her call that the guy was white, not black. when the cops finally showed up, they asked us what had happened, sent some other cops down 7th to look for him (they didn't find him) and gave me the, "so, what, he was asking you on a date and you didn't like it?" treatment, smirking the whole time.
so: i'm no longer a "good sport." apparently, in this guy's mind, it's fine for him to say whatever the hell he wants to anyone he wants, or to put his hands on someone, but the minute someone does either of those things back, he freaks out. it was like he snapped - he went from totally fine to overwhelmingly violent in a split second. it made me wonder - what if i hadn't been a "good sport"? what if i had told him to get the fuck away from me from the beginning, in the grocery store? would he have gotten violent with me right there, in front of the cashier? now, i'm not only not walking on sterling between flatbush and vanderbilt (i know his address, and his name, thanks to a neighbor who was at the restaurant and mary at prospect perk) - but i don't feel safe walking anywhere in prospect heights or north slope by myself. what it this guy sees me on the street? what if he sees my boyfriend? i don't pretend for a minute that my ability to fight back against this guy was predicated on anything other than the fact that we were in front of dozens of people. with no one watching, i'm sure i wouldn't be able to hold him back.
this incident vividly reaffirmed for me the simple truth faced by women who deal with sexual/street harassment: either you're a "good sport" and you stand there and take it, or you talk/fight back and you're called a bitch, spit on, threatened, or attacked. the police told me that if he comes near me again, i can get an order of protection against him and he won't be able to come anywhere near me. somehow, it doesn't make walking down the streets of the neighborhood i've lived in for four years any easier.
Comments
-
holy crap! that's awful - I'm so sorry that happened to you. that guy sounds like a total fucking whackjob and I'd be worried about running into him, as well. thankfully I haven't had the pleasure of meeting this lunatic myself. if I do, though, I'll bear this story in mind.
also, everything you've said about both how the police treated you and the folks you were basically begging for help is really disturbing. sometimes I really hate being a woman. -
That sucks - I have had similar incidents happen when I was by myself and also with my husband. Not only do you feel violated you wind up being treated like the aggressor when you fight back. Im glad you did what you did and I am so glad you or your friends are not hurt.
-
What a fucking scumbag. Sorry to hear about that.
It's always good to have Mary from Perk in your court. -
It was a horrible experienc you had to endure.
You are totally right, you are either 'a great sport' or you are the complete opposite. I cannot stand that some men feel entitled to rate women like a piece of meat.
When I have had the opportunity to discuss this topic with some men, the majority feel that they are doing women a favor and that we should be grateful that they took the time to notice our 'assets'. Or that we should just be happy that someone finds us appealing and take it gracefully.
How egocentric of those men to think that women would care for their opinion
How would they feel if women were to rate them as they are walking down the street. I do not think they would appreciate it either.
Hopefully this guy has realized that you will stand for yourselve and he will not bother you again.
But just in case, did you request to the police to make a record of this incident?
Should he continue his behavior a record of how many times (and dates) he has harassed you would make it easier to get an order of protection, or take some legal action. -
Yikes! That's really horrible, and I can't believe the cops weren't taking it seriously. Can you give a more detailed description of the guy?
-
Not fun...but, heckuva write up!
-
EmilyM wrote: Yikes! That's really horrible, and I can't believe the cops weren't taking it seriously. Can you give a more detailed description of the guy?
Yes, preferably including his name and exact address! :twisted: -
Carnivore wrote: [quote=EmilyM]Yikes! That's really horrible, and I can't believe the cops weren't taking it seriously. Can you give a more detailed description of the guy?
Yes, preferably including his name and exact address! :twisted:
Not that we would intend any harm...
we just want our loved ones to be informed.
Seriously though, this all sucks, and I'm sorry that you had to go through it, but I think that you did the right thing. Bravo. Not too many people are going to advocate violence, but in a roundabout way, I think that guys like this are a product of that mentality. I get the feeling that these guys just expect people to back down with the merest threat of violence, and when someone does, it makes them bolder. I think that you shook this guy up. I hope that he'll think twice before doing something similar. -
What a completely horrifying story. Really, the guy sounds totally unstable. I agree that probably the most productive thing that you can do at this point is to make sure that the police have made a report, especially now that you know his name and address. Make clear that he put his hands around your throat--that really ought to get their attention. I feel a little freaked out knowing that this guy is a neighbor--since he sounds like he's an inch away from going postal. I'm sure you're much more freaked out by it.
I agree that it's sensible to avoid his block, but what are you going to do, move to Nebraska. Obviously not. It sucks that you're going to have to feel freaked out in your own neighborhood. I hope you know some self-defense (sounds like you do) and that your cell phone is easily accessible to call 911 if needed. I'd probably get someone to accompany you from the subway at night, even if only to help make you feel safer.
Again, it totally sucks that this happened to you. You were brave and strong to stand up to him. He is, undoubtedly, a miserable rage-filled wretch and you are not. Let that be a comfort. -
What an awful story. I'm so sorry you went through this nightmare. but I'm glad you had the courage to fight back and to tell your story. He's my neighbor too, so I hope someone can post a photo of him. I'm sure most of us wouldn't hesitate to call the police if he so much as looked at us funny.
-
Subject: Re: you a "good sport"? harassment/streetfight con
crustythor wrote:
And what you say here is the bottom line. Now you have to worry, change your route, and second guess yourself. Was it worth it?
this incident vividly reaffirmed for me the simple truth faced by women who deal with sexual/street harassment: either you're a "good sport" and you stand there and take it, or you talk/fight back and you're called a bitch, spit on, threatened, or attacked. the police told me that if he comes near me again, i can get an order of protection against him and he won't be able to come anywhere near me. somehow, it doesn't make walking down the streets of the neighborhood i've lived in for four years any easier.
I've been harrassed many times, thankfully no one has been as persistent as this nutjob. But the times I have either told the guy to get lost or shot my middle finger up, wouldn't you know it, they are in my face, telling me to eff-off and are very close to hitting me and I'm powerless against their ability to really, really hurt me.
So, right there it shows you, it's all about their aggression and need to dominate (probably what drives some men to harrass is just a lesser degree of what drives some men to rape). Yes, you can fight like you did, but unless you have the physical ability to outrun or outpunch this loser, you now have to watch your back. It's incredibly unfair.
It sucks, and every time I watch the Matrix, Xena, Alias or Buffy, or some other Female Ass Kicking Movie, I have this longing to be able to physically take care of myself like that and kick the living shit out of any asshole that messes with me. But I can't. So, I pick and choose my battles.
On another note, everyone who didn't 1) come and help you and 2) didn't immediately call the cops SUCK. -
Subject: Re: you a "good sport"? harassment/streetfight con
doublediamond wrote:
Thats why I carry a lighter and hair spray - neither is illegal yet combined makes a nice little blowtorch :twisted:
It sucks, and every time I watch the Matrix, Xena, Alias or Buffy, or some other Female Ass Kicking Movie, I have this longing to be able to physically take care of myself like that and kick the living shit out of any asshole that messes with me. But I can't. So, I pick and choose my battles. -
Subject: Re: you a "good sport"? harassment/streetfight con
stacey wrote:
Thats why I carry a lighter and hair spray - neither is illegal yet combined makes a nice little blowtorch :twisted:
ooooh! I LIKE that idea! :twisted::D I really, really want a stun gun, but they're freaking illegal. -
this may lead to alcoholism, but: I used to stop for a bottle of wine pretty frequently on my way home. let me just say, a bottle of wine in a liquor store quality bag is a fantastic weapon. a full bottle of wine is made to survive some trauma. I always thought that if someone approached me, I'd just nail them in the shoulder or face (though I would be afraid of killing someone) with the bottle.
in any case, start thinking of anything you carry as a weapon. listen to an ipod? think of what you could do to someone accosting you with the headphone cord. wear clogs? wood hurts. etc -
Subject: Re: you a "good sport"? harassment/streetfight con
Crustythor, I'm as sorry as everyone else that this happened. Please do be persistent with the cops about filing a report, and I hope you don't run into this psycho twit again. Ugh.stacey wrote: Thats why I carry a lighter and hair spray - neither is illegal yet combined makes a nice little blowtorch :twisted:
Stacey never ceases to amaze me. I hereby nominate her for the official title of DHer You'd Most Want on Your Side in a Bar Fight. -
not that a guy should hit a lady, but why do they always try to fight the guy that you are with? i don't get it... anyway, i'm sticking with stacey and that blow torch.
-
damn sorry to hear about this story. people like that should be skin and have their nads cut off.
-
EmilyM wrote: Can you give a more detailed description of the guy?
I'm trying to be really careful to ensure that I maintain the upper hand here - if this does come to the point where I have to go to court and get a restraining order, I don't want to have given this guy any ammunition to say that I've been harassing him by dragging his name into things like this, etc. And believe me, I've been really tempted to exact some serious harassment, considering I know which house is his!
But, briefly, he's a little less than 6 feet, I'd say. Olive-skinned Italian guy, a little muscular. He usually has a goatee, and wears a baseball cap a lot. When this all happened, he was wearing sweats covered in paint. If you're a neighbor - on the block - and really want to know his name and which house is his, PM me. -
crustythor wrote: [quote=EmilyM]Can you give a more detailed description of the guy?
I'm trying to be really careful to ensure that I maintain the upper hand here - if this does come to the point where I have to go to court and get a restraining order, I don't want to have given this guy any ammunition to say that I've been harassing him by dragging his name into things like this, etc. And believe me, I've been really tempted to exact some serious harassment, considering I know which house is his!
This is really wise of you -- as much as I'd LOVE to know this asshole's name and address so we could organize a group of pissed-off women to go knock on his door! :twisted: -
What an idiot. Do you know if everyone gets his treatment or did he single you out?
-
i assume i'm not the only woman on whom he's ever used the "good sport" line - it seems pretty well rehearsed. i'm (pleasantly) surprised, in fact, that no one else on this board has reported a run-in with him.
-
I second apollonia666's suggestion!
If his behavior doesn't change we should show him that women will not tolerate that kind of behavior.
It's said that you cannot show new tricks to an old dog, but I say let's give it a try!! -
dds580 wrote: I second apollonia666's suggestion!
We can do our own version of the Burning Bed
If his behavior doesn't change we should show him that women will not tolerate that kind of behavior.
It's said that you cannot show new tricks to an old dog, but I say let's give it a try!!
Howdy, Stranger!
Categories
- 40K All Categories
- 27.1K Neighborhoods
- 5.1K Crown Heights/Prospect Lefferts Gardens
- 7.1K Prospect Heights
- 2.3K Fort Greene, Clinton Hill, Bed-Stuy
- 8K Park Slope
- 549 Williamsburg, Greenpoint, Bushwick
- 442 Flatbush/Midwood/Ditmas Park
- 657 BoCoCa (Boerum Hill, Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens)
- 151 Red Hook
- 104 Gowanus
- 304 Bay Ridge/Bensonhurst
- 130 Coney Island, Brighton Beach, Sheepshead Bay
- 270 Brooklyn Heights, DUMBO and Downtown
- 598 Windsor Terrace / Kensington
- 673 Greenwood Heights and Sunset Park
- 749 Brooklyn and Beyond
- 6.3K Stuff
- 86 Brooklyn Back When
- 1.2K Brooklyn Pets
- 257 Brooklyn Kids
- 241 Brooklyn Eats
- 51 Brooklyn Booze
- 3.6K The Lounge / Random Stuff
- 611 Brooklyn Politics
- 122 Brooklyn Sports and Fitness
- 111 Brooklyn Photos
- 339 Site Issues
- 8 Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)
- 6.2K Listings
- 1.1K APARTMENTS and REAL ESTATE
- 1.3K Sales Openings Events
- 2.3K The Classifieds