So one summer I was hanging out with my best friend for a day. Keep in mind, I was 15 at the time. It was pretty hot out that day, so I had on a fairly light outfit: a pink sundress that fell right between my knees and my fingertips lengthwise, a wide-brimmed sunhat, and a pair of plain white flip-flops.
Her mom came by my apartment and picked me up so I could go over to her house (she lives a little ways out of town, definitely not within walking distance) but they needed to stop at the grocery store first. I went in with them, since I was kind of hungry and had some money on me, with the intention of buying some snacks. They took a little while, since they had a whole list of stuff to get, but all I picked out was a package of brownies from the bakery and a couple candy bars that were on sale. Since they had a full cart and I only had three things, I decided to just go into the express lane while they went through the normal one next to me.
As I was putting my stuff on the counter, though, this creepy guy who had to be 50 or 60 or so with this huge, scraggly beard got in line behind me (there were three other lanes open) and started putting his stuff on the conveyor without putting up one of those divider sticks first. Naturally, the cashier got confused and asked me, “are you two together?” I know she meant PAYING together, and I just looked over at him for a second, looked back to her, and said no.
But this guy, this creep who was literally probably as old as or older than my grandpa, just looks at me with this creepy suggestive smile and says, “I wouldn’t mind if we were.” Like, this couldn’t have been the only time he’d done this. It just felt too planned. At this point I could literally just FEEL his eyes glancing all over me and checking me out. It made me want to lose my lunch right then and there.
My friend was still in the next checkout aisle over with her mom watching this all go down, and I could see her eyes go wide as I glanced over at her. It registered with me immediately that I’d just been harassed for the first time.
And although I was absolutely petrified on the inside, my face and voice remained completely deadpan as I looked over at the creep and said “I’m 15.” At this point even the cashier was giving the guy the “are you kidding me” stare.
And this guy’s expression didn’t even change, really. I mean, the news obviously came as a surprise to him, but he still looked intent on flirting with me. What a pervert. “You don’t look 15,” he said back to me.
Now I was really torn between just walking away and letting it go or just straight up slapping the guy, but I was inside a store, and my friend and her mom were literally right in the next aisle over, so I didn’t want to start up some big scene. I ended up just paying for my snacks and walking over to my friend (and kind of hiding behind her a little because my skin was crawling at this point) to wait for their cashier to finish ringing them up. My friend consoled me and tried to calm me down as we left, and thankfully I was feeling pretty much better when we got back to her house.
Seriously, though. Not only should that guy not have been hitting on me in a public place like that in the first place, but he should have at least stopped when I told him I was 15. I mean, come on. I’m a child, dude. And you’re, like, at least 50. That’s just sick. That was the first time I’ve ever been publicly harassed, and I have a feeling it won’t be the last.
– Abby
Location: Checkouts at the grocery store in town
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See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea.
