Now I'm venting...
Some man tried to attack me on my way downtown tonight.
I had my hood pulled up because it's freezing, and saw him walking up the perpendicular street about half a block down. Not really an odd occurrence in my neighborhood to have scruffy men with alcohol and a shady look about them, but most of them are not only harmless, but also regulars.
As I crossed the intersection I heard feet running towards me, so I jerked my hood back, swung around, and gave the guy (who was now really close) the evil-eye and kept walking. He mumbled into his beer, and kept heading east. When I passed him (going south towards downtown) and he had crossed the intersection he ran at me again, from the street opposite and behind me, hoping to hit me from the back; but I again heard him running, and of course I was on high alert after the first incident. This time I stepped to him and gave him a heaping helping of North Side attitude (glad to see I can still call it up after being out of the city for so long), which stopped him so dead in his tracks that he actually slopped his beer down his front. He informed me that he wasn't running at me, oh no, even though I was the only person out; rather, he was running towards "his girl" who was obviously invisible and standing right behind me. So I continued to cuss him out, turned back down the street (he informed me I was going the wrong way) and kept spewing obscenities until he decided I was a "crazy bitch", and he quickly headed on his original path after he realized I was pulling out my phone to call the cops.
I'm sure they're not going to find him, even though to their credit they've had patrol cars circling the area since I called them at 6:45 or so. He booked it out of there pretty quickly when I confronted him. It's amazing what a little bit of unexpected vitriol can do for someone who looks like such an easy target: small framed woman alone, in kitten heels and a skirt with the hood of her coat pulled up around her face. And to be honest there's not much to charge him with besides open container and harassment, since he didn't actually put his hands on me. He also looks like a dozen other men who frequent the halfway houses and homeless shelters around here. I'm going to have P saying, "is that him?! Is that the fucker?!" every five minutes for the rest of my life.
I'm thinking he was probably looking for an easy smash and purse grab, and was not expecting his target to confront him. Luckily(?) for me I spend several hours a week sprinting and knocking people bigger than than me down, and chances are I would have chased him even if he had gotten it away from me. And then I would have smashed his face in. Or so I'd like to think.
I've been angry and keyed up all night, but the adrenaline is slowly seeping out of me; and now I'm just sick, and sad, and angry, and scared. I'm angry for feeling scared, and I'm angry that I didn't just haul off and hit him, and I'm sick at the thought of what could have happened and what his intentions may have been, and I'm sick that it happened so close to my home, and I'm sad that being a woman makes me feel vulnerable.
I had my hood pulled up because it's freezing, and saw him walking up the perpendicular street about half a block down. Not really an odd occurrence in my neighborhood to have scruffy men with alcohol and a shady look about them, but most of them are not only harmless, but also regulars.
As I crossed the intersection I heard feet running towards me, so I jerked my hood back, swung around, and gave the guy (who was now really close) the evil-eye and kept walking. He mumbled into his beer, and kept heading east. When I passed him (going south towards downtown) and he had crossed the intersection he ran at me again, from the street opposite and behind me, hoping to hit me from the back; but I again heard him running, and of course I was on high alert after the first incident. This time I stepped to him and gave him a heaping helping of North Side attitude (glad to see I can still call it up after being out of the city for so long), which stopped him so dead in his tracks that he actually slopped his beer down his front. He informed me that he wasn't running at me, oh no, even though I was the only person out; rather, he was running towards "his girl" who was obviously invisible and standing right behind me. So I continued to cuss him out, turned back down the street (he informed me I was going the wrong way) and kept spewing obscenities until he decided I was a "crazy bitch", and he quickly headed on his original path after he realized I was pulling out my phone to call the cops.
I'm sure they're not going to find him, even though to their credit they've had patrol cars circling the area since I called them at 6:45 or so. He booked it out of there pretty quickly when I confronted him. It's amazing what a little bit of unexpected vitriol can do for someone who looks like such an easy target: small framed woman alone, in kitten heels and a skirt with the hood of her coat pulled up around her face. And to be honest there's not much to charge him with besides open container and harassment, since he didn't actually put his hands on me. He also looks like a dozen other men who frequent the halfway houses and homeless shelters around here. I'm going to have P saying, "is that him?! Is that the fucker?!" every five minutes for the rest of my life.
I'm thinking he was probably looking for an easy smash and purse grab, and was not expecting his target to confront him. Luckily(?) for me I spend several hours a week sprinting and knocking people bigger than than me down, and chances are I would have chased him even if he had gotten it away from me. And then I would have smashed his face in. Or so I'd like to think.
I've been angry and keyed up all night, but the adrenaline is slowly seeping out of me; and now I'm just sick, and sad, and angry, and scared. I'm angry for feeling scared, and I'm angry that I didn't just haul off and hit him, and I'm sick at the thought of what could have happened and what his intentions may have been, and I'm sick that it happened so close to my home, and I'm sad that being a woman makes me feel vulnerable.