If you haven't friended me on MySpace, here's the latest
Here's a little update on my life.
I relocated to Boston March 16th and currently have no plans to move away. I live with two girls in a 3-bedroom apartment right in front of a subway stop. I'm making friends and loving the city. I've gone on several interviews and am waiting to hear back on a couple next week. Hopefully I will have a great job soon.
I'm looking forward to spending an extended weekend in NYC with one of my best friends and my brother. Each way is $15 and 4.5 hours by bus. Not quite sure what all will go down, but my options are a little limited with no income. I'm probably going to have to ask my parents for money soon, which sucks. It's frustrating to be unemployed, but things aren't too bad otherwise.
There was some suckiness today though. I was waiting to meet up with a friend at Starbucks, standing near the entrance. I see a guy walk in as I'm watching for my friend and kind of step aside a bit.
He decides to "reassure" me and chastise me if I'm afraid of him. Caught off guard, I respond politely when he introduces himself as Mark by telling him my first name. He proceeds to make a blatant and crude joke using my name. I tell him that I will not discuss that with him. He presses me about that, trying to trap me, acting like an amature shrink/sex therapist. I keep noticing him looking down at my breasts, modestly covered in a baggy sweatshirt, and I get more and more uncomfortable. Then he starts touching my arm and saying that I should have sex with him. I keep saying that I will not discuss this with him, staring him in the face, telling him not to touch me. Eventually I was able to get away and sit down next to someone else in the shop.
That's right: I got sexually harassed in upscale, yuppie heaven: Starbucks. For a while, I was in utter disbelief. What just happened? What could I have done to end that more quickly? How did that happen? Why did that happen?
I waited a little longer for my friend, but finally gave up. As I got ready to leave, I scanned the shop and the corner outside. I thought I saw him to the right of the entrace, facing one street, so I walked briskly out and crossed the other street, booking it to the subway. As I waited for a train, the anger and sense of degradation started to settle.
As I rode home, I bit my lip as hard as I could, looked anywhere but at another person, and felt the tears falling down my face. I would calm down and then a fresh wave of fury and powerlessness would hit me. I wanted to cuss him out. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream. My mind created and rejected countless comebacks.
This guy didn't care. Nothing I could say would have made him regret doing this. From books and articles, I understand that sexual intimidation is about power. It didn't matter that I was dressed like a slob, soaked with rain, and my normal level of obesity. It's not about sex. But I felt dirty just from how he looked at me.
I'm not sure I could have handled the actual encounter better, other than yelling for an employee or at least reporting him immediately after it happened. It wasn't personal to him. It's not a reflection on me. Eventually I hope to stop being so furious about it.
I relocated to Boston March 16th and currently have no plans to move away. I live with two girls in a 3-bedroom apartment right in front of a subway stop. I'm making friends and loving the city. I've gone on several interviews and am waiting to hear back on a couple next week. Hopefully I will have a great job soon.
I'm looking forward to spending an extended weekend in NYC with one of my best friends and my brother. Each way is $15 and 4.5 hours by bus. Not quite sure what all will go down, but my options are a little limited with no income. I'm probably going to have to ask my parents for money soon, which sucks. It's frustrating to be unemployed, but things aren't too bad otherwise.
There was some suckiness today though. I was waiting to meet up with a friend at Starbucks, standing near the entrance. I see a guy walk in as I'm watching for my friend and kind of step aside a bit.
He decides to "reassure" me and chastise me if I'm afraid of him. Caught off guard, I respond politely when he introduces himself as Mark by telling him my first name. He proceeds to make a blatant and crude joke using my name. I tell him that I will not discuss that with him. He presses me about that, trying to trap me, acting like an amature shrink/sex therapist. I keep noticing him looking down at my breasts, modestly covered in a baggy sweatshirt, and I get more and more uncomfortable. Then he starts touching my arm and saying that I should have sex with him. I keep saying that I will not discuss this with him, staring him in the face, telling him not to touch me. Eventually I was able to get away and sit down next to someone else in the shop.
That's right: I got sexually harassed in upscale, yuppie heaven: Starbucks. For a while, I was in utter disbelief. What just happened? What could I have done to end that more quickly? How did that happen? Why did that happen?
I waited a little longer for my friend, but finally gave up. As I got ready to leave, I scanned the shop and the corner outside. I thought I saw him to the right of the entrace, facing one street, so I walked briskly out and crossed the other street, booking it to the subway. As I waited for a train, the anger and sense of degradation started to settle.
As I rode home, I bit my lip as hard as I could, looked anywhere but at another person, and felt the tears falling down my face. I would calm down and then a fresh wave of fury and powerlessness would hit me. I wanted to cuss him out. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream. My mind created and rejected countless comebacks.
This guy didn't care. Nothing I could say would have made him regret doing this. From books and articles, I understand that sexual intimidation is about power. It didn't matter that I was dressed like a slob, soaked with rain, and my normal level of obesity. It's not about sex. But I felt dirty just from how he looked at me.
I'm not sure I could have handled the actual encounter better, other than yelling for an employee or at least reporting him immediately after it happened. It wasn't personal to him. It's not a reflection on me. Eventually I hope to stop being so furious about it.