stalking

Cheryl

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When I was just out of university, I worked at a large food retailer’s warehouse distribution centre. The job was to answer all switchboard calls and route them to various other departments, and do a small amount of admin. As a result, I had to sit in reception all day, where everyone would wander past on their way to various departments. One senior manager would flirt with me, pretty harmlessly I guess, and he was friendly. But, it was awkward for me. Every lunchtime, I wandered down to the canteen, to ensure wolf-whistles as I ate, and nudges from ALL the guys, and whispers, etc. It seemed – in this very male dominated workforce – they’d not grown out of the 15-year-old boy stage. They never quite got over the fact that I was the new girl, and this went on for months until I left. Theen, one charming day, someone came into the reception to warn me to be careful about one guy who’d been talking to the others about what he’d like to do to me: pull me bodily right across the reception desk and do me right there. I was extremely afraid and had to change my start and finish time, as we tended to come in and leave at the same time (a bizarre coincidence that had always made me uncomfortable, but then I knew why). I felt creeped out around this guy, because, as it turned out, he was a creep. He then came into reception, realising that someone had “told” on him, and explained what he meant. Which wasn’t helpful. I was so shocked, I couldn’t say anything. I’m almost 20 years older now, and it still makes my heart race with fear. Let’s stop with all the pretense that this is complimentary. This behaviour is all designed to induce fear.

Anna

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When I was fifteen, I was followed by three guys within the span of maybe ten minutes. This old man was leaning against a fence surrounding a local business and greeted me as I walked by. A block and a half later, he’s suddenly next to me again standing by the crosswalk, asking if I was “working”. The walk sign turned on and I ran and didn’t stop until I reached my light rail stop. When I got to the stop, I caught my breath and assessed my outfit. I was covered from the collar bone down, excluding only my hands. I started texting a friend about what just happened, but a pair of boys seemingly around my age came to the stop and started looking at me. One of the boys came to explain that he was trying to get his friend to have confidence in asking girls out, and it’d be really nice if I would give him my phone number. I told him I had a boyfriend (which was true and it was him I was on my way to see) because I knew he’d be more likely to accept that than just no. He asked for a fake number, then, just to boost his friends ego. I knew it was wrong, would have the opposite effect and teach all the wrong lessons, but I just wanted them to leave. With the fake number, the boys walked off, and I never heard the one who was supposedly asking me out even speak. I finally messaged my friend. He responded that I should have given the number for the rejection hotline because he thought that would have been hilarious. I never told my boyfriend what happened.

R

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I worked late when I was a teenager and one night I was riding on the public bus to get home, a group of construction workers got on the bus with me. They all gathered around me, mostly white and hispanic men and they kept leering at me and touching my hair. When I would glare at them they would all laugh, when I changed seats they are regathered around me and started talking loudly over my head about younger girls. I was terrified for my life. I wish I had a gun or a large knife to defend myself. I got off the bus at a random stop and had to walk home. That was dangerous too, but all I could think was that I was going to be hurt or killed that night. Now I always stay armed. I have three knives in my car and a gun at home. Its too bad that I need a weapon to feel safe to just go to work.