The use of urban public space and the lines between alienated intimacy and repressed perversion
PART 1: Want to be touched?
Imagine a hot weekday morning on a packed bus, traveling towards the city centre shortly after 8. And, imagine you are like many of the women on this packed bus [be as liberal as you like with this visualisation – though some of you may be a bit more creative than others if you are not typically a) a woman, or b) ever visualise yourself being one]: you are sandaled and skirted, sweat dripping down your legs as you exhale with every gust of windowed wind that stalls the heat of your fellow (packed) commuters. As you are standing, the person sitting behind you facing opposite is so squished, his knee rests against your leg. You, from experience half consciously acknowledge this as a familiar situation of urban public commuting – that is – until you realize that it is not his knee/leg touching your leg/ass but a very stealthily placed hand.
The worst (and strangely, funniest) part – however – has not yet passed because just as you think this limb-to-ass freedom fighter is disembarking with the anonymous compatriot to his right and you go to take said compatriot’s seat bringing the nice adjacent standee next to you, the freedom fighter informs the nice standee that he is in fact not leaving and has sat down beside you in a position that basically has you wedged between him, some hardcore plexiglass and a wall holding an articulated groove. Excellent. Nothing like being a limb-to-anything freedom fighter’s first catch of the day on a Monday morning.
Now, to spare you the excessive detailadge – basically, this guy moves with microscopic and barely noticeable slowness while you distractedly ipod yourself out the window. His objective: to lift your skirt incredibly slowly while looking down your shirt and hiding any evidence of desired effect *ahem* with a stealthily placed lunch bag atop his lap. To do this, even to a perceptive though tired/distracted woman takes skill and a great deal of patience, particularly if all skirt-related movement is attempted with a single pinkie and possible thumb as weapons.
Anyhow, this was my Monday morning commute.
Now, luckily I am a comfortable person and not easily intimidated by stupidity (unless drunken or dangerously unpredictable, which this was not). At first, I thought he just bumped me but when I started paying attention realised that this guy was the connoisseur of the most improbable and least effective of seductions. This guy takes undressing to the level of attempting to solve Einstein’s Theory of Relativity on a morning bus ride. He expends so much effort that if he were to actually get someone naked, he would probably pass out at the boredom of it, as though he had gone from doing some of the World’s most complicated math(s – the ‘s’ is for the Brits), and then downgrading to single digit addition. So, when I eventually turned to the guy – who was basically attempting to orchestrate public-nudity-by-stealth of a stranger – and I was like, “WTF mate?!” how bizarre was it to get a pleading look in return, like, “Please lady stranger. Please take off your clothes on this bus for me.” I almost would have laughed were it not for the disturbing insanity of it….which shortly brings me to Part 2, but not before this final though…
Though he disembarked shortly thereafter and I did not move to verbalise him, I realized that I should have taken his picture with my phone: not because he was good looking (although, to be honest, were he not a total psycho, he didn’t look half bad) but because I could have shown it to the police. I realized that if this guy is going to be so bold as to do this once, he’ll be it twice – maybe in a less public space – maybe to another skirted stranger who is less able to stake their boundaries or find help when they need it.
So, now you have some advice for the next time you meet a limb-to-ass-or-anywhere freedom fighter. And, if you yourself are a limb-to-ass-or-anywhere freedom fighter, please – for the children – and for your fellow commuters – please make sure that the ass or anything else in question is not only in dire need of liberation, but that its owner fully votes in favor for your role in such emancipation. If not, send them Mr. Pregnant… (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=im7IorDZ9uY&eurl=)
This has been a public service announcement from the Grabbed Ass Transit Riders Association (GATRA), local 29 – Camden Town.
Imagine a hot weekday morning on a packed bus, traveling towards the city centre shortly after 8. And, imagine you are like many of the women on this packed bus [be as liberal as you like with this visualisation – though some of you may be a bit more creative than others if you are not typically a) a woman, or b) ever visualise yourself being one]: you are sandaled and skirted, sweat dripping down your legs as you exhale with every gust of windowed wind that stalls the heat of your fellow (packed) commuters. As you are standing, the person sitting behind you facing opposite is so squished, his knee rests against your leg. You, from experience half consciously acknowledge this as a familiar situation of urban public commuting – that is – until you realize that it is not his knee/leg touching your leg/ass but a very stealthily placed hand.
The worst (and strangely, funniest) part – however – has not yet passed because just as you think this limb-to-ass freedom fighter is disembarking with the anonymous compatriot to his right and you go to take said compatriot’s seat bringing the nice adjacent standee next to you, the freedom fighter informs the nice standee that he is in fact not leaving and has sat down beside you in a position that basically has you wedged between him, some hardcore plexiglass and a wall holding an articulated groove. Excellent. Nothing like being a limb-to-anything freedom fighter’s first catch of the day on a Monday morning.
Now, to spare you the excessive detailadge – basically, this guy moves with microscopic and barely noticeable slowness while you distractedly ipod yourself out the window. His objective: to lift your skirt incredibly slowly while looking down your shirt and hiding any evidence of desired effect *ahem* with a stealthily placed lunch bag atop his lap. To do this, even to a perceptive though tired/distracted woman takes skill and a great deal of patience, particularly if all skirt-related movement is attempted with a single pinkie and possible thumb as weapons.
Anyhow, this was my Monday morning commute.
Now, luckily I am a comfortable person and not easily intimidated by stupidity (unless drunken or dangerously unpredictable, which this was not). At first, I thought he just bumped me but when I started paying attention realised that this guy was the connoisseur of the most improbable and least effective of seductions. This guy takes undressing to the level of attempting to solve Einstein’s Theory of Relativity on a morning bus ride. He expends so much effort that if he were to actually get someone naked, he would probably pass out at the boredom of it, as though he had gone from doing some of the World’s most complicated math(s – the ‘s’ is for the Brits), and then downgrading to single digit addition. So, when I eventually turned to the guy – who was basically attempting to orchestrate public-nudity-by-stealth of a stranger – and I was like, “WTF mate?!” how bizarre was it to get a pleading look in return, like, “Please lady stranger. Please take off your clothes on this bus for me.” I almost would have laughed were it not for the disturbing insanity of it….which shortly brings me to Part 2, but not before this final though…
Though he disembarked shortly thereafter and I did not move to verbalise him, I realized that I should have taken his picture with my phone: not because he was good looking (although, to be honest, were he not a total psycho, he didn’t look half bad) but because I could have shown it to the police. I realized that if this guy is going to be so bold as to do this once, he’ll be it twice – maybe in a less public space – maybe to another skirted stranger who is less able to stake their boundaries or find help when they need it.
So, now you have some advice for the next time you meet a limb-to-ass-or-anywhere freedom fighter. And, if you yourself are a limb-to-ass-or-anywhere freedom fighter, please – for the children – and for your fellow commuters – please make sure that the ass or anything else in question is not only in dire need of liberation, but that its owner fully votes in favor for your role in such emancipation. If not, send them Mr. Pregnant… (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=im7IorDZ9uY&eurl=)
This has been a public service announcement from the Grabbed Ass Transit Riders Association (GATRA), local 29 – Camden Town.
posted by Laura aka Transglobal Lip at 2:43 p.m.
4 Comments:
This kind of behavior tends to escalate, so do us all a favor and report him next time.
It's actually kind of fun. You can grab his hand and say, "I found this hand up my skirt! What do I with it?" or some such.
I think you should have said in a gruff gruff voice...erm...it's not a p*ssy in there...I'm actually a man. Sure...I'll take my clothes off....you want my bra off too...u have to hold my grapefruits for me though.
I think u don't realize...it's hard for guys not to stare at ur hotness...
oh...btw...str8 men i mean. *wink*
T
You should start carrying an electric fly swatter....they hurt more than you think and I can just see the look on the pervs face when you give him a little shock. "Oh sorry I thought your hand sliding up my thigh was a fly.....hope that didn't hurt too much"
Public confrontation can work very well. Just say as loudly as you can "Move your hand and move seats, or I'm going to whap you on your head."
I actually did that once (and then when a young girl came up to me to thank me, I started talking about how guys like that are snakes and we can kill a snake by crushing its head). Guy ran out of the car at the next stop. It was beautiful.
Then, of course, report him. And of course, be smart--public confrontation only works if a bunch of people are on the train b/c then he probably won't retaliate physically.
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