I shouldn’t have to be verbally defined by a stranger as “sexy” or “having a fat ass.”
He says, “Don’t make me hit you.” He may be ’roided out, judging from his Jose Canseco-like biceps. “Go ahead,” I hiss. “Show everyone on this street what a gentleman you are.”
Please, like hairy legs would really keep you safe from street harassment.
It seems like every woman I know has developed a strategy for dealing with that slimy feeling of a deserted train car or an empty, dark street.
street harassment
It troubles me that on the one hand I'm totally opposed to any form of street harassment, but on the other hand, I'm almost aggressively using my sexuality myself. But quitting using my sexuality is not a neutral choice, it would make my life a lot harder.