Yesterday I was coming home from Boston's bbq on the 7 train. It be 4am. Guy follows closely behind me. He didn't even blip on my radar on the train, I was absorbed in 'Ender's Game' and white cheddar Cheez-its. I've wished for a cute guy to get the balls to hit on me before...but I don't think that I will be wishing for that now. I knew something was off so I modified my name to the short abbreviation that I despise. I gave as little info and didn't approach him when he would ask me to come to him. What the fuck did he think I would do? I'm not a wild one...unless bed-head and sparkly t-shirt are indicators that imply otherwise. Ugh, next time I start feeling unsafe, I bring out the mace.
He: 'hey come here."
Me: 'I have mace.'
I hate that implication that he is a threat, that my fear is elevated and that my decision to threaten bodily harm would reveal that to him.
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