I’ve always considered myself the strong, independent type… the no-nonsense-get-in-the-guy’s-face-if-he-crosses-the-line kinda girl. I think because of this demeanor I’ve been pretty fearless when it comes to guys who I have deemed ‘aggressive’ and I’ve always been able to hold my own when they say inappropriate things or manhandle me, like the time I punched a guy when he grabbed my ass one too many times.
What I didn’t realise though is that those kinds of boys don’t really mean any harm. Idiocy and alcohol were key factors in their inappropriate behaviour.
I never thought to bring this up because I’m still shaken by it when I think about what could have happened, but I suppose I feel the need to write things out for closure.
Last fall, a guy I had been on a few dates with insisted on picking me up from the airport. He had been a perfect gentleman for the most part save for a few unsavoury, tasteless jokes about women that I had brushed off but he hadn’t done anything that raised any immediate red flags. I thought it was sweet that he had wanted to pick me up but now that I think about it, it was strange how he had continued to insist despite my telling him he didn’t have to.
When he picked me up, he gave me a hug, grabbed my suitcase and we made our way back to the city. Halfway through the ride, I realised that he was going in the opposite direction from my neighbourhood.
‘I just need to swing by home for a minute,’ he said.
‘Actually, would you be able to drop me off? I’m really tired from the flight and I’d like to go to my place,’ I told him.
‘It won’t be too long, I promise,’ he insisted.
After a few minutes of my insisting that he just take me home, he pulled the car over in the middle of a deserted street and jumped on me, pressing his lips against mine while I struggled to push him away. I screamed at him to get off and kept pushing and pushing until he moved away in sheer frustrating. He then called me a tease and asked what was the point in him picking me up if he wasn’t going to get any.
I jumped out of the car and demanded that I get my suitcase back.
‘Fine,’ he sneered, grabbing my suitcase from the back and sped off.
Twenty minutes later, I was able to flag a cab down and silently made my way back home. I threw away the blouse he had torn, the skirt that was pretty much unwearable and stayed under the hot shower for an hour trying to wash away his presence.
When a guy decides to become truly aggressive, there isn’t a whole lot that a girl can do. If I hadn’t fought back as I had or if he had chosen to disregard the fact that I had been fighting back and had forced himself on me, I don’t think there is much I could have done.
Stay safe ladies. I know there are good people in the world but there are some horrible excuses for human beings around too.