Saturday, December 31, 2005

And You Thought Carnies Were Scary...

First, I'm SO glad to see a site like this! I hate being harassed, by men and women both. It's degrading and insulting, and for me started when I was eight. But this one is about my first truly awful experience.

The reason I'm writing is because of something that happened a few month before MY THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY and I just can't not say anything anymore. It's time for me to finally holla back.

I was working a game on a carnival for the weekend (parents permission of course, the people that owned the game were friends of the family) and it was getting late. I was sitting there talking with another woman ("Lizzy") working that game, waiting for someone to play. Two men in their mid to late 20's asked how much it was to win a prize. Lizzy told them how many points it'd take, etc, the whole time this guy was looking me up and down. Everyone knows that feeling of being undressed with a look. This guy was a pro. Needless to say, this freaked out my 12 yr old self pretty bad. I avoided eye contact, I did my very best to let him know I wasn't interested. Obviously I didn't have much experience at the time with jackoffs like this.

Then he said something in Spanish. Lizzy tilted her head and asked him to say it in English. He then POINTED AT ME, AND ASKED HOW MUCH FOR ME! I felt my face flush deep red and looked away, scared out of my mind. Lizzy was obviously a bit stunned and tried to make it into a joke.

He then played the game a few times, by the time he left, I was watching someone else play with my back the crowd, when I felt the most creepy experience I can remember. I had hair down to my hips at that time and felt a hand go through my hair and down my back, by the time I realized what happened and turned around, I saw the son of a bitch walking away.

I wish I'd known then what I know now. I wish I had had the guts to tell him exactly what to do with himself. It was an extremely degrading experience for a little girl. Lucky for me, I've gotten better at telling a guy to fuck off. Still very disturbing knowing that men like that are still out there are men that are such cowards they victimize little girls.

Written by Marie.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Time for Therapy

The Hollaback NYC blog reminded me of a scary thing that happened to me when I used to work for an inventory service. I sometimes had to work stores in downtown Denver and we wouldn't get out till after dark. One night as I was leaving, this really freaky dude was standing there on the 16th Street mall. I ignored him and kept walking to get to my car which of course was 5 or so
blocks away.

He suddenly shouted "Hey, Bitch, do you know what time it is?" I ignored him and kept walking. He shouted "Hey, Slut! Yeah, I'm talking to you! Don't ignore me or I'll cut your fuckin' throat!"

I hurried around this corner and was about to duck into a bar and tell them to call the cops. I guess he lost sight of me because he kept walking down 16th street.

I'm sure he was mentally ill but compassion was lost to fear at that point. People like that really shouldn't be out on the street. Who knows if he was just spouting stuff or if he'd really have done it if he'd gotten hold of somebody?

Written by Cie.

Friday, December 23, 2005

3 Days of Harassment

The past three days have been clouded with sexual harassment and I feel like I failed to fight back until today. For some reason men have been making unwarranted passes at me and saying unnecessary comments to me and I just freeze. But today I didn't want to take it anymore.

I've been repeatedly called pet names on the job, a jeweler kissed my neck and rubbed my stomach after a friendly hug, and I was hooted at while running. But in those moments I didn't act as I wish I had now. Hindsight is always 20/20.

But this morning when I was walking to the office and a man working on the building across the street whistled at me, I stopped and turned to him. He waved. I continued walking and stopped again: I should take his photo. So I got out my phone, pointed, and he ducked away.
Damn...

Then when I was leaving the gym tonight with a friend, a nasty old man with dumbells sneered at us and croaked: "Sexxxy..." Just like this morning, I stopped dead in my tracks and looked right at him. He smiled.
"Did you just say 'sexy'?"
Surprised: "What?"
A little more aggressively: "Did you just say 'sexxy' to her?"
Embarrassed, he choked, "Er, um, no, to myself."
"Oh. To yourself..." and we walked off shaking our heads.

I wish I had my phone.

written by Brigitte.

The Old Man Said...

The old man at the coupon counter yelled, "Hey there, Red!" to me, as I walked through the store at which I work, winking suggestively to top it off. (My hair is dyed bright red.)
I might have let it go, but something about the fact that I was clearly at work (considering that I was wearing a company shirt and all) just ticked me off.

So I turned around. "I have a name, and if you are going to address me, you will address me by my name, and not by my hair color, is that clear?" I replied, putting on my best Frost Queen before stalking away.

It felt pretty good to hear him flapping his gums behind me, caught between embarassment and annoyance at having found a girl with the balls to talk back.

written by Angela.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Different Kind of Pancake Dinner

I was walking to the corner to get eggs and milk for a pancake dinner and some guy says “Hey, Slut” right to me. Without even thinking, I just yelled back “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Actually yelled. Then I was a little scared thinking he might come after me, but he just kicked some trash and kept walking. Perhaps I have a bit of pent up aggression stored up right now. Anyone who has spent a lot of time with me lately is thinking “just a little bit” a la Sixteen Candles church scene. Perhaps I was inspired by Holla Back - my uncle sent me the link a few weeks ago.

The funny part is that I was wearing my hair back, glasses, no makeup, and a big puffy winter coat. I think the guy was seriously drunk. That is why I kind of feel bad for yelling at him. Isn’t it insane that now I feel bad about yelling at the drunk guywho called me a slut on the street? Just a little bit.

Written by Mara in NYC.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Unsexy At Any Speed

Episode 1: This morning I was walking to the donut shop for my daily Boston Cream and kick-off coffee of the day, dressed quite alluringly in several layers of winter garb and thinking about criminal procedure, when I heard beeping and a man's voice. "Hey, hey," yelled a guy who was sitting in the passenger seat of a blue van. Without saying anything, I gave him the finger. "Oh, thank you very much," he responded.

Episode 2: No Hugs

This afternoon I was sitting in a Chinese restaurant in Astoria, eating my dinner, when a man entered carrying a plastic race car that played scratchy "music." I looked up at him and, because I have this weird Tourette's-like illness that causes me to uncontrollably make sarcastic comments to anyone who annoys me, said to the guy, "That's annoying."
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized. "Can I get a hug?"
"No." And with that abrupt shut-down, the guy left. When the door closed behind him, I turned to the guy one booth over and smiled. He laughed.
If Creep Valley High School existed, that guy with the car would be stuck in the remedial classes. He would have to go to the pre-9th grade summer program just to catch up to the rest of the student body, and THEN the school administration would place him in the program for low-end creeps.

Written by Lauri.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Friends Don't Let Friends Harrass Women

i'm an american who recently moved to tallinn, estonia. i was surprised to find that it's rare for men to harass women on the street here. apparently, this does not apply in bars. my friend and i were at the counter ordering our drinks when a man seated at a nearby table reached out and grabbed my friend's ass. she was in shock so i turned around and said, "hey, that's not cool" then addressed his friends (the guy was trashed) "please control your friend." we turn back to the bar and drunk guy makes like he's going for attempt #2 so i turn around and say in a slightly more direct tone, "back off!" as we're paying for our drinks, drunk guy grabs my friend's ass again! i'm not in the mood for negotiations at this point so i turn around and yell, "keep your fucking hands off her, asshole!" and to his friends i say, "control your fucking friend." in response, drunk guy tries to say something and stand but winds up just falling backwards in his chair. we take this as our cue to grab our drinks and go. bastard.

written by trudee.

Friday, December 16, 2005

The Infamous Compound Holla

I was living in Astoria, and I use the word 'living' --- Hold the phone. You won't believe this. As I was writing this Hollaback, a guy came into my office and sexually harrassed me. He asked me if I like to be flogged, and since it was hot in the office I should get naked. He asked me to cuss because cussing women turn him on. What a fucking creep. Problem is, since he doesn't work here, or work anywhere, there was nothing I could do. He's a member of the synagogue. I just tried to steer the conversation towards more neutral ground and towards business. And now I feel stupid because I didn't stand up for myself more. So, Hollaback, Shelly! I hope you get a papercut on your dick when your jacking off tonight to Hustler.

Back to my original Hollaback...
I was living in Astoria, and I use the word 'living' loosely as it was wll about 95 degrees and we had no air conditioner. Also, you don't live in Astoria, you kind of just wait around in Astoria until you can move to Brooklyn. Anyway. I went out to the store a block away at around 11pm really just to wander around in the Rite Aid air conditioning. This guy on my way to Rite Aid said something nasty to me, and then turned around and followed me into the store. He continued following me around the store, saying nasty things to me under his breath. I alerted the security guy, and the guy walked outside, standing right in front of the door, waiting for me to come out. The security guard said, "What do you want me to do about it?" I said, "Can you tell him to leave me alone, or walk me out the door or something?" and he said, "Boys will be boys." What a fucking mother fucker. Anyway, I truck it out of the shop, doing my lengthiest stride, and asshole is still following me. I know of an apartment building on my way home where the front door is always unlocked. I decide to go there instead of home. I walk in the front door and disappear into the garden for about 10 minutes. I return to the front door, expecting him to be gone so I can go the fuck home. Nope...

Read More!

He's standing right across the street gawking at me through the front door. Anger grabs a hold of me. I step out the front door, and I point right at him. "YOU!" I say. He looks confused and looks around. I yell at the top of my lungs, "YES, YOU. STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME." The guy looks scared and walks away. Just then a Police car drives up. I tell them what happened and they agree to take me home. They just have to take care of a jumper on the roof. HIL-arious. So, they drive me home, and my Landlady gets a nice view of me coming home at midnight in the back of a police car, as they shine their search light full blast at the front door and say in a mega volume loudspeaker, "Can you find your keys?!?" Hollaback to you, asshole mutter-follower. And a special hollaback to that piece of shit guard.

Written by Julie

Nobody Wants to be a Subway Model

So, Toronto is the setting of this disturbing story. I am sitting on the subway with a friend, minding my own business and nobody else's. This guy on one of those motor wheelchairs comes on the train and stops right in the middle of the aisle in front of the doorway, facing me, and me facing another way so that he could see the profile of my face, not my whole face. So I'm talking, when my friend starts saying weird stuff, like 'look at me' and 'wait, wait, stay like that,' which really confused me. When the wheelchair guy finally drove past me and away (staring at me with a weird smile before he left,) my friend turned to me and told me that this guy just took a picture of me with his camera. I was in pure shock, because on the news there was a segment about men who go around taking pictures of females on subways... I hope it was a good picture though... Peace

written by Anya

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Even If They Are Ugly

Two weeks ago Girlfriend and I are walking back from a night at a lesbian club when we get slammed twice.

Incident one: We're walking arm in arm, about to cross 45th st, when a young man bounces over to us. He says to me, "You look nice." Then he looks at Girlfriend and says, "Don't she look nice?" We're just looking at him. He then reaches out his hand and strokes my shoulder. I say "Don't
touch me." And he walks on.

He was a young guy - probably a teenager - and I'm not sure he knew that what he was doing was inappropriate. He looked like he thought I'd be pleased, or respond well, and was surprised when I didn't. Had I been less tipsy, I might have tried to have a little conversation with him, school him a little on how touching a strange woman in a place like Times Square
might lead to said woman and her girlfriend feeling less than safe.

We proceed to the corner of 47th and 7th, where I hail a cab and Incident Two ensues...


Click here to read more...

Two gentlemen in front of me try to take the cab that I've hailed, Mr. Touchy's inappropriate behavior has set me off and I'm having none of it. I say, "Excuse me, that's my cab." Drunk, incoherent stares.

"Excuse me, I hailed that cab."

One of them finally comes to and replies.

"It's alright," he says, "let them have the cab."

The other stares aggressively at me, but decides to let it pass, while his friend opens the cab door for us (totally unsolicited and unnecessarily). Girlfriend and I step in, I go to close the door, and he closes it for me, saying, "Even if they are ugly."

By this point I've had enough, and I scream, "Fuck off!" in the cab with the windows down. There's no point in making the cab driver deaf, so I roll down the window and scream "Fuck off!" at the men walking away. One of them grabs his ass and rubs in my direction.

Some men take advantage of how unsafe some women feel, and some men just don't get it.

Written by Johanna

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Insensitive Creeps

Yesterday, I left work early because my dad called to tell me he just found out he had cancer, and potentially only months to live.

I cried the whole way to my best friend's apartment--about an hour subway ride.

I managed to pull myself together as I got off the train, so I was no longer openly sobbing. As I walked down the platform, a man grinned and said to me, "You got some pussy on you!”

Then he said it to the next woman who walked past him.

I don't care what he said. He was particularly gross, but even if he had just been one of those creepy guys who says "good morning" or "hello" to every woman he sees, it is rude and intrusive and dehumanizing to talk to me with sexual intent when I haven't given any indication of interest. Actually, given the circumstances, if he had been one of those "Smile, beautiful" assholes, I might have clocked him.

It's rude because it doesn't recognize that women are people, with personal lives and feelings and complexities. It was a bad day for me yesterday, but this guy didn't care. Guys who say this stuff don't care how the woman they're harassing feels. They don't care if her kid is sick or she just got raped last night or her dog died or she got laid off. They just care about feeling all masculine and hetero by expressing their 'interest.'

He made the worst day of my life so far a little worse. And he doesn't care.

Written by Ashley

Wednesday, December 7, 2005

Pretty in Pink

I live in the crazy college town of Madison, WI. In preparation for Halloween, I took the bus to the mall and got some costume elements. I got off the bus on State Street, only to hear a male voice, "Hey, pink-hair girl!" (My hair is not, in fact, pink, it's bright red.) But I stop and wait for the man to catch up (I can't really remember what he looked like anymore) thinking that I had forgotten something on the bus. So he comes up to me and says, "I just wanted to say that I admired you." Predictably, I'm like, "What for?" He says, "With all the diversity on that bus...you weren't intimidated or anything." I am not entirely sure what he means by this, especially since his explanation was far less concise than I have made it, but realize it's a compliment and thank him, although I've started walking home by now and am getting vaguely worried at the way he's following me. He asks if I'm in a hurry, and suddenly he becomes something more sinister than a guy with poor social skills. I tell him I have to go home and walk away very fast.

Let Me Count the Reasons

You’d thinking riding a bike around a small, mostly farming community in Ohio(county population sits around 53,000) that a gal would be fairly safe.

I followed all the biking rules, including the lesser known one meant for women, the one about not wearing a head set so you can hear the ensuing attacker hiding in bushes.

I should have forgotten that last tid bit and worn headphones anyway because of the constant harassment of whistling, honking horns, and many a suggestive, "Hey baby, ride that thing!”

I rode through lots of stop signs, red lights, and even on the wrong side of the street to avoid creeps who wanted to follow me and continue their harassment unabated.

When it became too much I started forsaking myself the (cough cough) safety of town for country roads.

The decision worked well, at first, there was plenty of peace and quiet, the beautiful landscape of farm country, no hooting and hollering or comments made about my getting it on with the bike.

Then I was hit by a car.

Fortunately, I didn’t end up road kill or smeared across a windshield, just thrown into a ditch. No major injuries, but I was pretty shook up.

The real icing on the cake was that the asshole didn't even bother to stop, not even a glance in his rearview mirror!

I wish to this day I'd gotten the plate number instead of the back of his head forever seared into my memory.

This happened a little more than ten years ago and I've not ridden my bike since; unless you count a few loops in my driveway, and to this day my family believes I won't ride my bike because of getting hit by a car.

Well, that's one reason out of two!


Written by Beth

Thanks for the awesome picture Beth!

From the Rooftops...

"Hey, darlin'."

Not your darlin', creep! (Bad picture, but I wanted to be outta there fast.)

- Anonymous

Tuesday, December 6, 2005

They Can't Stop Stair-ing!

I spent my college years in Boston and had an apartment in Kenmore Square. I was coming home from my summer job as a hostess and began to wearily climb the steep steps from the T station up to the street. After the third or fourth step I heard the familiar sound of a polaroid camera --click-whirrrr. I whipped around in time to catch a textbook creepy-looking pervert pulling his camera back toward him after having stuck it under my mini-skirt to get a crotch shot. (I was wearing underwear, thank god.) He fled and I hurried the rest of the way up the stairs to relative safety. It was so disturbing and so close to where I lived that I felt I had to report the incident. I called the campus safety office and was asked to come in to go through a book of mug shots. Apparently, this guy was a bigger problem than I had originally thought. I don't know if they ever caught him, but almost ten years later it still turns my stomach to think about those few seconds.

A similar thing happened when I was in Bangkok a couple of months ago--only this time I was descending a staircase to the street from an overpass, and there they were, two shifty, watery eyes aimed up my skirt and between my legs. He concentrating so hard on getting a good look, he didn't even know I watched him the whole time!

Written by Andrea

Monday, December 5, 2005

Crotchedy Old Man

One day, a year or so ago, I was walking along 11th or 12th street, right off Broadway with Suzanne. We were happily chatting away after having done some shopping, or some activity of that ilk.

Then, a crazy old hobo man passes by, and as he does, grabs my crotch and says, "Fucking cunt!"

I was too shocked to say or do anything. Moments after, it felt so unreal. Could that really have just happened, out in public?

He wasn't in his right mind anyway, but god men can be such assholes!

written by Christine.

Mr. Gray Teeth

In the summer of 1996 I was 20 years old and living in the northern end of Prague. I was young and living it up, working in bars, spending them on beer. Around the corner from my workplace -- which closed at 3 a.m. -- was this cheesy, crowded bar called Le Chapeau Rouge where you could hang out all night and watch German guys hit on Czech girls, and Czech girls hit on Italian guys, and Italian guys hit on American and British girls, and so on. One night I stayed until closing time -- about 7 a.m. When the bar let out it was light outside. As I walked to the subway, across Old Town Square, this guy who was at Le C.R. approaches and starts talking to me. He was French and he had gray teeth. He was shorter than I am (5'3").

The conversation started off rather blase: "Where are you from?" "US ... you?" and so on. Boring boring boring small talk. Until the guy says: "I would like to come home with you."

"Oh, you can't," I said.

"Oh, come on."

It seems to be a joke on his part. Then we get to the subway station. He tells me that his hostel is at such-and-such a place. It's in the direction opposite from where I'm going. He continues talking to me and following me along the platform.

"You should get on the other side of the station -- your train's going that way," I tell him. Rien.

When the train comes I get on ... and so does he! That freaks me out. When we get to the next stop, I get out of the car and run like hell to the next car. We get to the next stop and I run into the next car after that one. My getaway is successful, and I get home alone.

Almost ten years later, I can still see that guy's creepy gray smile.

Posted by Lauri

Friday, December 2, 2005

HollaFAQ! Brand Spankin New!

Team HollaBack gets an awful lot of questions via email and on other blogs. In response we've developed the:

HollaFAQ

A permanent link is in the sidebar, but please take some time now to review our responses to some of the most frequently asked questions.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Chauvinism, what chauvinism

Uncomprehensible muttering.
"Hey, I'm not a chauvinist! I hate chauvinism! I just like women who do what they're told!"
Obnoxious laughter.

I thought about yelling something back or cussing him out, but I didn't want the loser to gloat over having gotten a rise out of someone. Then I remembered the website, and snapped a photo for the first time. Next time it will be more close-up.
--Jamila

Chocolate Chip Cookies


The other day I had a need to bake some cookies. Without a decent cookie sheet, I took the necessary trip to the store--mere steps from my house. Whilst passing the local Chinese place, some guy whistled that classic whistle. You know, the one that goes "wheeeet wheeeew!"

I turned around, saw the dude looking at me, and gave him the big, unmistakable
finger.

Yet, he persisted, mumbled, almost incoherently--even sheepishly-- "I wanna lick your pussy. . . "

I held The Finger until I entered the store. Feeling relief, I carried forth on my mission, and obtained the necessary baking implement.

Upon payment, I wondered if said jerk-off reamined outside. He had, apparently, taken his spring rolls and split, but not without an extra-awesome serving of my finger.

--anna

A Little More Than A Bad Day...

Last night was a strong competitor for the worst night of my life. I had a complete nervous breakdown, screaming at the top of my lungs, drunk, saying the most horrible things to someone I love very much. It culminated with me putting my foot through a wall and bashing my head as hard as I could into the bathroom window. I was nearly hospitalized.

Waking up this morning with a huge knot in my head and incredible fear and remorse, I decided I needed to go out to get some cigarettes. I had a couple emergency psych appointments coming up in the afternoon, and needed to get my nicotine on. On my way to the deli, some asswipe leans out of his construction van, which is parked and running, and says, "Hey Gorgeous." Usually, I file this kind of harrasment into the least harmful category. It's certainly better than threats, or kissing noises, or getting jacked off in your face on the subway. However, this morning, it struck me how rude, how vile, how asssumptive, how invasive it really is. I stopped in my tracks, turned right to him and said in my best Linklater voice, "FUCK OFF." I turned around and began walking again when he said menacingly, "What did you just say?" I turned around again and said, "I SAID FUCK OFF."

Walking to the deli I saw cars speeding to my right. I was certain he was going to pull up and shoot me. I was terrified, but the cigarettes sang a siren song. When I came out, he was still parked like before. I decided not to walk 4 blocks out of my way to avoid him, but to walk right past. Why should I have to be fucking terrified? Why? He never did shoot me, so I guess I can give him that much.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Tales of a Female Gas Jockey 2

I approach another guy, maybe middle-aged-ish, and say as I say to everyone, "Hey there, what can I grab for you?" And Mr. Eloquence says, "No, WHERE can you grab me?"

written by Angela.

Monday, November 28, 2005

SSSSSSSSHHHHHH!

This happened a couple weeks ago in Milwaukee, WI. I was in the mood for a good book, so I hit the library. Little did I know that I would get hit on my not one, but two guys.

I was walking down one aisle and noticed an older guy staring at me. Avoiding eye contact, I picked up a book to read the inside cover. Of course that didn't work. He approached me and kept telling me that I looked like his friend. Ummm ok. Thanks? He then proceeded to shake my hand for what seemed like an eternity. After trying to interrogate me about my school, my hobbies, my life in Milwaukee, and my reasons for being at a library, I finally got rid of him.

Home free? Not quite. A few minutes later I walked past two guys to go into another aisle. One of the them followed me and apologized for not saying anything as I walked by because, you know, I was deeply hurt by the fact that a stranger didn't yell something inappropriate at me IN A LIBRARY. He then asks what I was doing. I responded, "Oh you know...looking at books." I guess it wasn't sarcastic enough for him because he asked for my number so that we can hang out sometime. I started to tell him that I had a boyfriend, but before I could even finish, he turns around and walks away. I really should be ashamed of myself for being so rude to a random creep...

-Lisa
Milwaukee, WI

I'm [not] a Crest kid!

I think that the Universe is trying to tell me something about my what my life's work should be. All of this time I thought that it was something (ANYTHING) in the theatre, but now...

So, TheGirlfriend and I are beginning our 12 hour drive back from North Carolina (Thanksgiving with my family) and we decide to stop into a Bojangles (the most popular chicken restaurant chain in Raleigh-Durham) to pick up a couple jugs of sweet tea for the road. TheGirlfriend decides to rinse the sticky sweet off of the outside of hers and I decide to wait for her in the foyer.

That was when it happened. A man flashed his fronts at me. Or maybe the proper term is "bared". Anyway, he came out of the main restaurant, saw me, looked me up and down once and then put his upper teeth over his bottom lip and sort of nodded at me. And then his girlfriend/wife/significant other/baby mama pushed him out of the door.

10 hours later in Pennsylvania TheGirlfriend and I stopped in a 7Eleven off of the Penn Turnpike and as I was at the front paying for my Slurpee when an older fellow walked in the door, saw me, waved and then grinned, the hugest creepiest most toothless grin I've ever known.

I'm gonna take this as a sign that I should look into dentistry.

written by Andrea.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

P and Me Don't Mix

I'm Naomi, not from NYC. It's too bad.. I've got lots of stories of being harassed and really want to share it. I live in Indonesia, waaayyy far from NYC. But the street harassment here is just as bad. Depends where you walk/ pass. Still, it could happen anywhere anytime. I really wish I was as brave as other girls in the Hollaback blog when I was harassed.

I was 9 years old, in the street full of small shops where suddenly a tall guy (about 20 yrs old) grabbed my bums. Nine years old!! And I was with my mom! Too afraid and embarrassed, I shut my mouth. Damn I couldn't do anything since it was too crowded, but I knew who did it. Stupid ass tall guy with the hair looking as it's never been washed & combed with mongrels in it!

And when I was 12 years old, I walked to a bus stop, a guy walked from across me and suddenly grabbed my right breast and walked away. I was with my girlfriends, really really embarassed, humiliated! Damn!

I'm still soooo angry when I remember all of this stuff!

When I was 17, waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up in the school's gate, this old guy (around 50 yrs old or more) came and stood up beside me about 1.5 meters apart. I didn't care anything about it, he didn't do anything that would upset me. Until he suddenly did something, which I didn't realize for about 2 minutes. I got the feeling that he's up to something no good at all. That's when I took a gaze at him, what I found out? He was .. you know.. playing with his "P" /*in **the public*/, standing up, and starin' at me. I TOTALLY FREAKED OUT and ran away ASAP and hid where I found my seniors there. Once when I walked down the street with my sister at about 11 AM, Sunday, two guys riding motorcycle with black leather jackets grabbed my sister's bum. She suddenly shouted and run after them,"Asshole! You *GO TO HELL*!!" Still, the guys were laughing at both of us. But they speed up their moto and ran away. Cowards. I was surprised. My very calm sister was actually braver than I was.

People in my city mostly mobilize themselves by motorcycles, and a lot of guys show their "P" in the public and wave the "P" while they\'re still driving the motorcycle (slowly)- to the female streetwalkers, mostly to teenage girls, while laughing and smiling jerkily. Or they would come across with cars to the houses where a lot of girls are hanging out or cleaning the yard, and ask,"Miss.." and when the girls looked at them, they will open the car\'s door, show their "P"s- and then ran away.

I really really really HATE any kinds of street harassment!! Don't you? I think those who do that, are the brainless, witless, heartless creature who don't respect their moms - coming out of nowhere and harassing females. Don't they think that their moms are females? What's in their mind? What if their beloved girls/women experience harassment?!

Thx. One day I'll visit NYC.

written by Naomi.

Shameless Creep

Well, this happened to me last year, but it still CREEPS me out to no end, when I think of it. When it happened, in the moment, I was in shock, and the creep-factor of it really didn't settle in until I was driving home *ewww ewwww fucking YUCK*

So, I had stopped to get some gas, around 11pm or so. I was about an hour north from San Francisco(where I live), and I didn't want to get stuck on the side of the road, out of gas and feeling like a dork. After I gassed up and grabbed some noshe from the gas-mart there, I called my boyfriend from my cell phone, to tell him I was home-bound, and would see him soon. I was climbing into my car, when I hear a voice behind me say:

"I want to lick your pussy."

At first, I thought I was hearing things, but I quickly turned around in the said-direction of the
voice, just to make sure I was still sane..that COULDN'T have been what someone said, right? Unbefuckinglivable!

WRONG!

Standing in front of me was this skinny, creepy dude with longish hair, an oversized forest green parka(I don't even WANT to entertain what he had in there) and baggy jeans. Leering at me, he steps into my comfort center and says again: "I want to lick your pussy."

I stammered, "Wha? WHAT did you say?" Mind you, I am ON THE PHONE with my boyfriend and in a public place(ok, it was dark out, but well-lit)! I actually had to give this guy the cajones award of the year for even asking, but still....

Creepy dude: "I want to get in your car with you, and lick your pussy. Can I?"

I still didn't register the temerity of this creep's question, until my boyfriend, on the other end of the phone yells out, "Did he just ask you what I think he did? Who the fuck is that?"

Me: *Stammering* "Uh, some freak who just walked up to my car!"

*I mean, with that kind of offer, how could I refuse, right?*

::::::Shiver::::::

I then turn to the creepy dude and say: Me: "Uh, do you realize I'm on the phone with my
boyfriend? Are you out of your fucking mind....?"

Creepy dude: *interrupting* "Please let me lick your pussy, I want to...."

Suddenly, my boyfriend starts telling me to scare him, by telling creepy dude that he's right down the street, and he's on the way. Before my boyfriend could get the rest of his instructions out, I switch into protection-mode and say:

Me: "You better run muther-fucker, as my boyfriend is right down the street, and he's going to KICK. YOUR. ASS. !!!"

I then started describing what the creep looked like to my boyfriend on the phone, and the creepy dude gets this horrified look on his face and quickly says,

Creepy dude: "I'm sorry, so sorry, it looks like I have the wrong girl...."

He then starts running away, and as he does that I scream at him:

Me: "Yeah, RUN Forest RUN!"

::::Shiver again:::::

written by Le Anne/San Francisco, CA.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Maybe Turkeys are the lucky ones...

Thanksgiving at midnight

"You wanna hooker or a stripper? I can get you one cheap."

submitted by Lauren

Are You Mr. Subway?

"Girl, you Miss America or something?"

submitted by Julie and Lauren.

What a specimen

"Hey Females!"

submitted by Lauren & Julie ( a few minutes before we met Mister Subway.)

Thursday, November 24, 2005

H&M: Harassment & Mediocre Clothes

I'm from England. When I came to visit NYC, I fell in love with it, but have never been so harassed in my life. Case in point...

My sister is shopping in H & M. (central Manhatten, middle of the day) I am bored of this so sit down on a chair by the main entrance. A shop assistant materialises and just stands there, staring at me and starts blowing kisses and licking his lips.

him: Hey beautiful
me: er... hey
him: Give me your phone number
me: excuse me, but do I know you?
him: I think you want to
me: No, I really don't think I do (politest British accent)
him: Give me your number I want to call you
me: why would I do that?
him: because you're gonna sleep with me tonight
me: Well I suggest you draw my face on your pillow and hump it cause that's the only way it's gonna happen. Now FUCK. OFF. before I shout for the store manager (in a much less polite tone, alarming nearby shoppers)

Seriously - who employed this guy!

Embarrassed he walks away, Such a shame I didn't have my camera to hand!

written by Ruth, UK.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Bike Chase!

The other day, riding my bike through Chelsea, I was slowly riding through a crosswalk when one of the guys waiting to cross felt the need to tell me I had nice tits. I turned my bike right around and started riding towards him, and he took off running down the street as fast as he could, like a little baby. I chased him for almost a full block, hoping to fully instill the fear of the hollaback girl in him. Not so tough now, huh asshole?

written by Emily.

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Monday, November 21, 2005

Tales of a Female Gas Jockey 1

I used to work at a gas station. Being a female gas jockey is just a recipe for disaster, as I found out in my year-and-a-half on the job.

I approach a truck to ask what the guy wants. He's sitting there, sucking away at a lollipop. Guy looks kinda greasy, looks like trouble. But I figure it's not at all fair to judge him beforehand, so I go up and give him the usual speech. ("Hi there, what can I get for you?" and so on) He looks down at me. He slo-o-o-wly removes the lollipop from his mouth and smirks. Then he speaks. "Wanna suck?"
I walked away before I could do him violence.

So for all you ladies out there in "male-dominated" jobs who get harassed on a constant basis - I feel you! Stick it out, and if you can, snap their pictures and get them back!

written by Angela.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Just As I Was About to Solve the AIDS Epidemic

Me: (walking down the street)

Random guy standing on the corner: Nice lips.

Me (scowling): What the fuck?

RGSOTC: (nothing)

What if I had been doing a very complex DNA computation in my head, because I was an AIDS researcher on the verge of discovering an amazing new wonderdrug, and as I was walking along I was mapping out my morning lab work when all of a sudden Mr. Dumbfuck blurted out, "nice lips" and distracted me? Then I would have lost my place and it would have been all for naught. That's why guys should leave women alone. Because many of us DON'T CARE what you think and we might be WALKING AND WORKING TO CURE DISEASES, or at least sorting out our own mental illnesses, so SHUT YOUR GODDAMNED PIEHOLES, OKAY?

written by Lauri

Friday, November 18, 2005

Aint it a kick in the Head...

through no fault (and certainly no preference) of my own, i'm busty. between the difficulty in finding clothes and the almost constant back pain, it's a fact that's hard to get around.

however, concerned strangers seem to worry that i might forget, and for a moment define my sense of self from some other aspect of my person. so at least once,every single day, some street samaritan points it outto me.

i've heard an amazing range of reminders- from the stunningly uncreative 'you got big titties' and its many many variants, to (twice) someone actually walking up and grabbing them- one of those a-businessman type, at 8:30 in the morning, on a busy 23rd and Lex. one of the grossest was an oldish man with a single dead-cat-like dread hanging off the back of his balding head, sitting on a folding chair on the sidewalk smoking a joint, who looked at me as i walked by and said, 'heh, heh- got milk?'

a couple of times i've gotten really, really angry. when i have, i've fought fire with fire. i went up to him and yelled, loud as i could, right in his face, 'THAT'S A REALLY GOOD WAY TO GET KICKED IN THE HEAD'. and maybe a little etc. i'm sure i looked like a lunatic on the street, but it worked- one guy actually ran away from me, saying 'you crazy bitch'-and it felt great, and hilarious, every time.

Written by Rosemary

How much is that Stalker in the Window


"Hey Baby, you are beautiful, can I take you HOME?"

Thursday, November 17, 2005

I was waiting for you to open your legs

I was on the F train going to Brooklyn. This man next to me was staring, like boring holes into the side of my face staring. So I got up and moved to another seat. He got up and moved to sit across the aisle from me, STARING.

At this point I'm just ignoring him, not talking, not looking, knowing he was going to follow me. We get to Jay St and I wait to get off the train until right before the doors close, so he wouldn't follow me. But old dirty man figured it out and just as I was walking out of the train doors, he stands next to me and says so no one else can hear: "I was waiting for you to open your legs."

Written by Amina

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Actually, it is Personal.


So I was walking down the street in my Tribeca neighborhood, minding my own businees, listening to my ipod, pondering the beauty of this wonderful life and stuck in bewilderment as to why it was close to 70 degrees in November when I hear a faint "Hey." I look around to see where the noise was coming from and find the voice echoing from a car stuck at a light. I take out one of my headphones to hear this man say again, "hey" and wave. I think, maybe I know this person so I wave back. At second glance, I realize the man is a total stranger so I put my headphone back in my ear and walk on... He drives up next to me and starts to shout again and I think "who is this guy?" He motions, "Come here." So being the curious, yearning for as many experiences as possible person that I am, I walk up to his car. He opens the door and says, "get in." I say, "No, you're a stranger...that's weird." He says, "Come on, what's the big deal." I say, " I don't know you, I'm not going to get in your car...besides I have a boyfriend." He says, "That doesn't matter. I just want to talk to you." I laugh and say, "Sorry, I have to go." I walk off. He pulls his car over and parks and walks on after me. "Do you have something to do?" he says. "Yes, I have lots I have to do." Meanwhile, I think showtime, finally I get to holla back (ever since this website started I've been waiting to be harassed, but people have only been kind, with their usual "Hey beautiful" - nothing that warrants a holla-ing- in my opinion). So I grab my phone and slyly try to take his picture. "Why are you trying to take my picture?" Busted. "I'm not trying to take your picture. Do you want me to take your picture?" "Do you want to take my picture?" he asks. "Sure," I say. "What are you going to do with it?" "Just have it on my phone, I guess" (and then post it on a website so everyone can see you sucka!)...Anyway, he ended up walking me almost to my apartment and kept asking me for my number. I kept saying, "It's nothing personal, but there is no point. If you call, I'm just going to either avoid your call or tell you that I don't have time to hang out so I might as well save you the trouble now and tell you that I'm not interested." Still, when i said goodbye, he asked, "When I'm going to see you again?" I said, "Maybe on the silver screen..." Then he gave me an uncomfortably long hug goodbye and said, "But I find you so attractive" to which I replied, "Well take one long last look" and walked away.
); Julie

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Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Jersey Boyz


Walking in Chelsea on Saturday night with my hollaback friend. This group of men in a stretch-limo SUV yell, in one voice, at the two blond women walking in front of us. As the women pass by silently, the dudes turntheir attention to us: "Let's party! Wanna come to New Jersey? Come inand ride with us! We'll take you to New Jersey!" They grow quiet as I slow down to take out my phone and hollaBACK. As I'm taking a photo, theyare still imploring my friend to get in the car. As we walk away, she turns to me: "Did you get a photo?" Yes I did. Consider yourselves HOLLA'd at. I do mess with Jersey. -Johanna

Nosey


"Girl I can Smell You."

posted by Tiffany

hide and assault


Walking with cute boy down street in broad daylight. Worker from construction inside a store yells, "Damn!" at me. I go to take his photo and ask him what he said, and he said, "Nothing." Cute boy says he has never experienced someone harassing a girl he is walking with.

FROG


He said, "Hey Princess," to me, I reached for my camera and he had allready said, "Hey Princess" to another girl, I followed him and this is a picture of his third encounter with royalty in a .5 block radius.

big yellow taxi caller


Nice Shoes...Wanna F*@#K?!

Monday, November 7, 2005

Museum of Modern Stalk

yesterday i left for the MoMA in the early afternoon, excited to finally be spending a lazy saturday wandering about looking at art all alone.

[weird shred of foresight: as i walked from the subway stop to the museum, i thought, "hmm, just in case anything holla back worthy happens, i have my camera with me."]

a tall, well-dressed, probably thirty-something man, however, apparently had different ideas for me.

seconds after i got through the line where my card was scanned, he appeared at my side.

"excuse me, hello, i saw you in de lobby and i was very curious. i just wanted to introduce myself. so, where are you from?"

[tell me it isn't weird to say you want to introduce yourself and subsequently NOT introduce yourself in favor of asking a somewhat off question]

at this point i'm walking, not quite knowing what to say to get him to bug off, and he's staying glued to my side. the whole time i was thinking, TAKE A PICTURE TAKE A PICTURE TAKE A PICTURE.

"ummmm..." i began, and made a break for the escalator.

"i was very interested, i just wanted to introduce myself," he repeated.

"that's okay," i muttered, and maneuvered my way around the mob in front of me. at this point, my heart began to race. i knew he was following me. no sooner did i make it to the top of the escalator than he was right behind me again.

"you don't have to be so rude," he said, obviously frustrated. "i just wanted to ask you some things."

[thought: i'm rude, yet you're chasing me through the f*cking museum and still trying desperately to talk to me]

"i don't want to answer anything!!" i announced, and, without knowing where i was going, just hightailed it away from this freak as quickly as i could. i arrived at the line into the café, thinking, "shyt shyt i'm cornered he's going to follow me."

from behind me i heard him yell something about how i was "SO STUPID!!!!"

[i'm stupid, yet he needed me to spell out that i wanted nothing to do with him...after making a clear attempt to escape]

i was shaking. i wanted to cry. i stood at the window that overlooked the sculpture garden and considered calling someone to come join me, just in case i should run into him again. i was terrified that he would be waiting back near the escalators when i decided to leave the café area.

fortunately, i didn't see him again. i've never been truly afraid of a harasser before. thinking about this makes me angry. of all the places this can happen in the city, you'd think it'd be just slightly less likely in an art museum.

maybe next time i'll have the guts to snap a photo.

-laura

Boy, You're Pretty


Sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette at a bar in Dumbo.
Some dude walks by and after he's about 10 feet away from me, finds it extremely necessary to turn around and say "boy, you're pretty."

I stand up and step in his direction, arms raised, "Why you gotta say that? Would you say that to your sister?"
He looks shocked, turns and continues walking.

This is kind of what he looked like. Definitely the beanie. A little pudgier though.

So unnecessary.

Thursday, November 3, 2005

giddy up


These are the gold boots I was wearing on 8th avenue at 3:42pm when he said:
"Girl I wanna be your Pony."

Stop looking at me!

Ever feel like there are so many pairs of eyes just staring at you, undressing you?

Yeah, that's how I've been feeling lately. No catcalls, no comments, just stares. Up and down.

Give me a break!

Wednesday, November 2, 2005

Birdland Skeezeland


Drunken customer at Birdland:
"If you come to Japan, I appreciate you."
Reaches into his pocket, produces this card.

Monday, October 31, 2005

No, sir. Excuse ME.

I was on a first date. We went to a hip Asian fusion
restaurant. After lots of conversation and stuffing
ourselves with yummy spicy food, we went to leave. I
saw a man behind us chatting on his cell phone,
presumably stepping outside so as not to bother his
companions with his personal conversation, but I was
wrong. Just as The Date and I opened to door to leave,
the man asked the person he was on the phone with to
hold on and said "Excuse me" to get our attention. We
turned around and the conversation went a little
something like this:

Man: Hi. Are you all with each other?
Me: Um, what do you mean?
Man: Like, are you all...together?
Me: Do you mean together with a capital T?
Man: Yes.
Me: Well...we are on a date. Why do you ask?
Man: Oh. Well, I was going to ask if I could stare at
your breasts. [FOLKS, I AM NOT FUCKING KIDDING HERE.
THIS IS VERBATIM FROM DUDE'S MOUTH.]
Me: [covering my cleavage with my hands] Well, you
wouldn't have been able to anyway.

Dude literally chased me out of the restaurant to ask
if we were together. And then proceeded to admit that
he wanted to ogle my tits! Mister Man felt the need to
inform me that he had plans to eye my rack.

Well, sir, I have something to say to you:













Tara Ellison
Washington D.C.

Just Gellato

I hadnt stolen a parking spot
hadn’t voiced more than a
“damn”, “traffic”, “san francisco”, “I should have known better”
I had wanted to have ice cream,
to park my damn car,
to have a fun night
CUNT.
Yeah you, CUNT.
CUNT CUNT CUNT CUNT
he yelled it from his expensive car
like it was a recorded message.
I wore a sweater and jeans,
a sweater and jeans.
then,
CUNT.
I look at him in awe, then, in a beg to stop
then as a “Why?” a kind, gentle “why”

that night, I was his victim
someone to make feel like nothing when he had no idea
I already did

Allison Hilborn
San Fransisco, CA

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Single, white male

"You ladies look like you'd like to take advantage of a single, white male tonight."

Um, ew. "Can I take your picture instead?"

Saturday, October 29, 2005

I Wanna Lick You, No Chemicals!


From Meg:

today while sitting beside the arch in washington square park, i happened upon this individual, who apparently had a lot to offer...

this included plenty of money, weeds (specifically in the blunt form), and the desire to lick me...or more accurately "to lick me thru without chemicals"...he was emphatic about this oral form of intimacy...proposing said "tongue bath" in a bakers dozen of scenarios...i should add that he was also no scrooge when it comes to the compliments...apparently i am fucking beautiful/sexy...in addition to the aforementioned, lickable...

that said, i am relatively certain that i would not be the sole muse for these attentions...so if any of this sounds particularly appealing (how could it not?) I suggest making your way down to good old nyu town... and waiting for the moola, cannabis, and saliva sesh to commence.

cheers!