Disclaimer: I am aware that while strong I am much smaller than most men and that due to bilateral TMJ surgery two years ago one punch in the face could literally destroy my quality of life. To clarify, as a result of past injury I can't bite into an apple or each anything really hard requiring great force - my jaw is fragile and held together by muscles taken from my temples to create the padding in the joints. I can kick, I can scream, but one hard punch to the face and my jaw would likely shatter as glass hitting concrete. Four years ago I would have told this man to get the fuck back but now my face is fragile - I like my face, and I very much like being able to chew, smile, laugh, make funny faces, and all of the other things having an intact jaw affords a person.
So yesterday on our way to a luau party, we stopped at a gas station that we frequent. DH pumped gas while I ran in to use the ATM and purchase a beverage for the longish drive.
I was dressed in a comfy yet fitted outfit - long tropical looking skirt, a tank top, ponytail, and lace up wedge sandals. (Shared only to create an image.)
Standing at the ATM (already unnerving considering the ATM while in plain sight of the people looking in the windows is isolated and tightly contained) a man a foot taller than me at more than 3x my weight approached me from behind loudly squealing about my outfit and hair.
He complimented me profusely to which I was pleasant and gracious (he was saying he needed my outfit supersized for him). However, I laugh when feeling nervous or threatened - it is a sad weird sound that conveys desperation attached to fight/flight. DH heard this odd laugh - he knows what it means... he stopped pumping gas and started towards the store. He watched me through the window - trying to decide if he should intervene. He could tell I was uneasy but appreciates that I like to fight my own battles so he watched... waiting to help if I needed it.
While very uncomfortable - you see this man had trapped me in the corner (my back to a cooler blocking backward retreat, ATM in front of me in the corner, and this huge man blocking my only path to escape) with my debit card in the ATM waiting for cash to be dispensed. I couldn't see around him or above him. But he had a friend with him as well - just as tall but not as large who stood closely to his side further blocking me.
He hunched over and casually reached out and laid his incredibly sweaty arm/armpit) about my shoulders and attempted to force me to hug him. When I said please respect my personal space he went on to tell me how I shouldn't be frightened or rude - that we're both "just girls". He then asked my name and where I live. I smiled, told him that I am a woman not a girl, and asked him to please move. He continued to spout a barrage of compliments at me. It was like a very weird take on up close catcalling.
As DH walked through the door to do his cursory "everything okay honey?" call out the man retreated and let me pass to the checkout counter. DH retreated to pumping gas satisfied that I looked comfortable enough again.
As the man walked out and past my DH he was still talking about me to his friend. He said mostly complimentary things as he passed but laughed openly and gregariously at my discomfort.
Why is it funny to back a woman into a corner and touch her? It is a violation regardless of what body parts are touched, it is illegal imprisonment with unwanted touching.
I could not get that man's scent off my skin even after slathering my shoulders in hand sanitizer, it took a very hot shower to remove his oil/sweat from my body.
How is it that someone claiming to be a "girl" just like me would delight so in making me uneasy and celebrate my vulnerability? Because my sex is a costume, a feeling? Well it fucking isn't I am full human and deserve to be treated with dignity and seen as such.