Men, Fireworks & Milkshakes

No means no, right? If she ignores you and walks a little faster, that means no too. But somehow words and body language still manage to be misunderstood by idiots with no boundaries.

So here’s some background:

Yesterday was July 4th, Independence Day (woo-hoo 🙄). This day, which I don’t think anyone really celebrates it for what it is, is an excuse for parties, BBQs, drunk nights, and fireworks. It is also a day (like every other) on which some guys accost and harass women. My friend and I needed plans, it was 4th of July and we refused to be stuck in our homes binge watching on Netflix. So we left our Brooklyn abodes, where firecrackers (or gunshots) reverberated against our apartment walls. We made it onto and off of the crowded until High Street A train. The streets along 8th avenue were relatively empty, as most people were already posted at the fireworks viewing locations.

Our destination was Black Tap Craft, home of the over-the-top milkshakes. There was about a twenty minute wait, but we got in earlier after the bouncer convinced us to sit at the bar. The milkshakes were beautiful and delicious, super sweet and actually kind of filling (luckily we didn’t indulge in burgers). We hung out inside for a while because it started to rain heavily. When the downpour subsided a little, we decided to venture out into the drizzle.

There are many overcrowded venues to watch the sky be lit up, but I decided to go to The High Line since it was closest to us. That was a poor decision since the article I read was wrong and the journey there was disrupted by an asshole. Only one block away fro. Black Tap, in the midst of conversation, a random guy sticks out a hand to be shook between us (which we don’t touch, ew). “I’m interested, I like your look.” He says to me. Me nor my friend reply, but he continues. “Where you from? You look like you’re from Jersey” At this, we both give him an incredulous look, my friend actually IS from Jersey. I ask, “What does that mean? What does a person from jersey look like?” Wrong thing to do because he just keeps talking. Thankfully the light changes, which my friend remarks and he ignores. He follows us as we walk away. 

Then the worst happens: he puts his arm around me. I immediately push it off and move. “Don’t touch me. Keep your hands to yourself.” I say as we try to walk faster, unfortunately he keeps up. “Why? Do you have HIV or something?” WTF. What’s wrong with this dude? I give him a dirty looked say ” I don’t know what you have but don’t touch me”. He laughs. Once again, my friend speaks and he ignores.  

Then comes more disrespect. We’re both ignoring him and halfway to the next avenue and he’s still following us. He says something about a”volleyball booty” which I ignore. He’s still talking. “Aren’t your friends back there?” I ask in a rude tone. He disregards our annoyance with a loud “anyway”. Sick of his antics, my friend and I loop arms and jog away. Finally he gets the hint and stops following us, not before he yells at me, “I don’t like your butt anymore!”

No longer bothered by the jerk, we make it to the High Line, unbothered. We were so distracted by him, that we didn’t notice the emptiness of 14th street. Shouldn’t more people be here? We walk up the stairs and it’s empty, except for us and a creepy statue. The article I read which listed The High Line, was totally wrong. We only caught flashes  of  red and blue skies as the fireworks sparkled over the East River.