I had a really great long weekend. Kramer and I went to Vermont with some friends for a weekend of snowboarding, antiquing, reading by the fire and, of course, plenty of eating. We may or may not have had tater tot breakfast tacos one morning. It was pretty sweet. I want to tell you all about it, but I had a really shitty experience on my subway ride home last night and while I am totally fine, I want to share what happened because I believe that the more women that speak up about their experiences, the more other women will be empowered to do the same. I think that if you silently accept what happens to you, others will follow suit, and that doesn’t help anyone. Obviously other women have had far more scarring things happen on their commutes, but what happened last night still really shook me up and made me feel awful. I was on yet another overly packed subway car, but I was on my way to meet some friends for drinks and wings, so I was in a good mood. At the stop before the one I was getting off at, this guy behind me started grabbing at my ass. I think at first I thought it was just someone’s bag pushing into me or something, but then the feeling of someone pawing at me was unmistakeable and I turned to this guy with my mouth agape because I couldn’t believe he was squeezing my ass. We were at my stop when I finally got myself together enough to say something to him. “Were you touching me? Were you grabbing me?” I kept asking him, but he averted his eyes and pretended not to hear me. “This guy was grabbing my ass!” I yelled to everyone on the subway car, but everyone just kind of looked at me, and I pushed my way through the people and walked above ground. I felt shaky and upset and really angry. I wanted to punch the guy in the face, but in the moment, I was thinking about all of the things that could go wrong in that scenario, like maybe he had a weapon, or maybe I had just imagined the whole thing. Other thoughts running through my head included, but were not limited to: Did I not make big enough scene? Should I have grabbed him and dragged him to a cop or MTA employee? Should I have taken a picture of him? Should I have screamed? I don’t know. I always thought I was the kind of person who didn’t take this kind of thing, that I’d know how to react in this kind of situation, but I was stunned. I know it’s not my fault and I know that I’m lucky it was just this and not something way worse, but I still felt bad about myself after it happened and I did have a little trouble sleeping last night because I couldn’t stop replaying the incident over and over again in my head.
Dun-Well Doughnuts and some photos from our trip to Vermont.
Kramer and my friends were all really awesome and supportive. They reminded me that this guy was a piece of garbage and that I shouldn’t let him bring me down, and I feel a lot better this morning, albeit still pretty angry. What the hell? This is the kind of thing that makes me just hate everyone forever, you know? I hate that I felt anxious on the subway this morning, and I hate that I’m probably going to be thinking about this for a long time. I don’t want to, and I also kind of feel like I’m blowing it out of proportion because, again, overall, I’m fine and I didn’t get hurt. I just feel violated, and the whole thing just sucks. There’s not much more to say about it other than that, I guess. I hope that in plastering my experience all over the internet, insignificant in the long run as it may be, that it reminds people that this shit happens to women constantly, all day, every day, in every city in every country all over the world. Women walk around with this weight on their shoulders, having to watch out for predators and perverts and everything in between. Women question what they’re wearing, how they are behaving and how they can prevent these kinds of things from happening, and it’s really awful that we can’t just get up, get dressed and walk out the door without having to worry. UGH. At least I can always drown my sorrows in food.
So when you’ve had a bad day and you want to dropkick people on the subway, the best thing to do is turn to some good old fashioned comfort food. For example, last night I immediately inhaled a plate of buffalo wings. I think that these peanut butter blondies would have also cheered me up, too, if I had any left in my apartment. I actually made these way back in November, but things got crazy with the holidays and I forgot about them. How could I? They were so good! Chewy peanut butter blondies dotted with caramely Milk Way bars and salted peanuts – what’s not to love? I had my hands full of Milky Ways because I have no shame and I had Tweeted at Milky Way asking for free candy. Well, ask and ye shall receive, because a few weeks later, a big box of Milk Way bars arrived at my doorstep, begging to be put into some kind of baked good. I went with the classic peanut butter and chocolate combo, but the caramel and sprinkle of sea salt turned these into a dessert you can’t help but sneak of piece of for breakfast. I brought them into the office and they were consumed within 20 minutes, as any good blondie is wont to do. Just a suggestion: for the ultimate comfort food experience, I recommend warming these up a bit and putting a scoop of ice cream on top. You can thank me later.