A couple of summers ago, I was standing outside my local Trader Joe’s, waiting for my turn to get a shopping cart. I felt a very insistent hand on my back. I thought a friend must have seen me and stopped to say hello. No, it was a large man I didn’t know, pushing me out of his way. Unbelievably, he shoved me aside instead of walking around me.
He proceeded to walk into the store. I was so shocked, I yelled, “Excuse me? Excuse me?” after him. He turned around and started to walk directly at me with an angry facial expression. I had my shopping cart by then, so I put it between us, pressed it into his body, and kept him at a arm’s length. I was terrified, but I wasn’t going to let him touch me again.
A few minutes later, inside the store, he walked past me and said, “That wasn’t very ladylike. You’re not a lady.”
There were a number of witnesses. One of them wanted me to call the police and press charges, but I opted to stay nameless and not do so. Anonymity can be the best defense with an irrational coward.
I’ve never felt so helpless and victimized. A few days later, I was in another public place and thinking about the incident, when I had the first panic attack of my life. My heart starting racing; I couldn’t control my breathing; I shook uncontrollably.
If my husband had been with me, he would have punched the man in the face. Hubby’s a big guy who abhors violence, but not as much as he dislikes bullies. I take small comfort in knowing that this sort of behavior is never an isolated event, and that this man will regret what he does.