A long time ago when I was taking the bus to work a guy made a comment of
sexual nature about my tattoo then said I look like "that chick from
Charlie's Angels." I tried to explain to him why I didn't want to talk to
him and why his comments weren't welcomed.
Once he realized he wasn't
getting anywhere he just stood there and called me a bitch, that I needed to
suck a good dick then I wouldn't be so uptight, etcetera. I saw my bus, put
my bike on the front and realized that he made no motion to get on the same
bus as me. As I got on he continued talking shit, I turned around and spat
on his shirt. I really thought he was going to jump on the bus and I would
have to stab him with my house keys.
He just stood and asked the bus driver
helplessly "Did you see that? What are you going to do?" "I saw what you
were doing, I'm not going to do anything," she said, and closed the doors. I
was lucky to not be arrested that day, and afterwards I still cried because
I hate those situations, but afterwards I finally didn't have all those
scenarios of what I should have done or said running through my head. I had
a pretty good feeling he did, though, and that made me feel good too.
Submitted by Monica in Oakland.