I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where you come from, how old you are, where you live, or what you do for a living. I’ll probably never see you again although to be honest, I’m not even really sure I saw you during our brief “encounter” shall we call it. Similarly, you don’t know me. You don’t know where I come from, how old I am, where I live, or what I do for a living. I doubt you would recognise me if you saw me again.
This wasn’t the first time that I’ve had such an “encounter,” although I would like it to be the last. Naively, I have previously allowed benefit of the doubt to creep in, considered that it might have been an accident, and even thought that I might have imagined it. With you, I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting it. You completely took me by surprise, and it was probably the reason that you didn’t see my reaction. Even though it happened in a split second, you were long gone by the time I managed to decipher what you had done and muster up a response. So you probably didn’t see me stop in the middle of the zebra crossing, aghast, indignant, angry, and shocked. You probably didn’t see me shaking or hear me cry out and swear or frantically look around for you. You probably didn’t see the tears pricking my eyes, and you probably didn’t see me sigh in frustration and resignation as I realised that you were indeed, gone, and there was nothing, literally nothing I could do about what had just happened.
I can’t help but wonder what you got out of it. Was groping me in passing on a busy zebra crossing a turn on? Or did it make you feel empowered? I wonder if you were nervous at all about being caught… you did, after all, have the gall to do it on one of the city’s busiest roads during rush hour. Did you know that you could do it and then literally disappear into the throng of people and I would be none the wiser as to your identity? Did you know that no one else would see, or react? I wonder when you decided to do it. Did you see me from across the street and albeit briefly, plan it? Or was it literally a spur of the moment decision as we passed on the crossing? I wonder why you thought you had the right to do it, and if you thought at all about how it would make me feel. I also can’t help but wonder if you have a girlfriend, a wife, a sister, a mother, a daughter, or any close female friend or relative and how you would feel if someone groped them in the street like that. There was no mistaking your grope. Brief though it was, it was hard, firm, deliberate, and incredibly invasive.
I wonder if you’ve done it before and I wonder if you’ll do it again. Since it happened, I wonder if you’ve spent as much time thinking about it as I have. What could I have done differently? What could I have done to stop you, or to catch you? What would I have said to you had I been able to identify you? And I wonder, that if you think that’s acceptable behaviour, what else you might be capable of. The truth is, you scare me. And you disgust me. I wish I could be telling you that you can’t get away with things like that, but I imagine you’d laugh in my face. After all, you did already get away with it, didn’t you. I have many questions about you, but really, I don’t want to know the answers. I can’t relate to you. You might think it wasn’t that big a deal, but guess what? It was and it is. You are a coward and a pervert and regardless of what you clearly think, you have no right to touch me or any other stranger.