Follow my lead, whether I want you to or not. . .

[imood mood at time of entry: anxious]
Personal Mood: Frustrated

I’ve just caught my breath after having to foot it away from yet another insist male who thought the best way to get my attention was to follow me. At first, I couldn’t hear him speaking to me, because I had my music turned up loud in my earphones. But, I could certainly feel someone walking close behind me.

I didn’t want to appear off, but also didn’t want this person to hassle me. He caught up with me to ask me for my number, and I told him that I didn’t have a home phone, which is the truth. I just didn’t mention my (currently useless) cell phone or my Voice Mail account.

Then, he asked me what my name was, and he repeated it incorrectly, a la Viktor Krum. When I still didn’t slow down to even correct him, he tried again. He asked me where I was going, and I told him that I was going to the WorkSource.

For some reason, he thought I meant that my job was called “the WorkSource.” I know this because he asked me what time was I getting off of work. I told him that I didn’t know, as in I didn’t know how long I planned to stay at the WorkSource. He asked me how could I not know when I was going to get off from work. I informed him that the WorkSource was not a job, but a place where you could get help searching for a job.

He kept saying “Ahhhh.” in this very final and enlightened sort of way after each of my rushed responses. I took this to mean that he found out what he wanted to know, and was then going to politely leave me alone. No such luck was to be had.

Finally, after he basically chased me across the mall’s parking lot, I power-walked away into the building, leaving him yelling behind that he wanted to walk with me. Pfft. Fat chance, bub.

I know that people need to reach out to one another for some reason or another, but I truly wish that men on the streets (and everywhere else for that matter) would leave me alone. Nothing about my posture says that I want to be approached when I leave the house. At least not intentionally so. I go out of my way to appeared mean or angry or crazy, in hopes of scaring off the unsavory sorts.

This isn’t the only time that this has happened this week alone either. I’ve had numerous guys stop their cars in the middle of the neighborhood streets I am walking along, and even back up. The shooting incident has me so unnerved that I am always certain that one day one of these stalker-ish men will inevitably shoot me in the head for not stopping when they tell me to.

One night in particular this week was not helped by the fact that I walked part of the way home with some woman who recognized me — by name, might I add — from childhood to her grandmother’s street. She was clad in a low, black top and minuscule, pink shorts. She may or may not have been wearing heels, but she looked the picture of a hooker. In all honesty, I thought she might have been one, too, because the major streets near my house are well-known for night walkers.

I have absolutely no problem with ‘ladies of the evening’, but I do find it a bother that every male cruising along those streets seems to believe that all women walking by themselves are looking to sell a little you-know-what to pay the bills.

I usually say hello to the women I spot on the street corners, but I haven’t walked with many of them. They seem to be pretty nice, at least that was the case when I’ve had contact with them. Anyway, babbling aside, that night I walked home with the faux-hooker, all kinds of cars stopped. It’s annoying and frustrating to be viewed in that way. I walk everywhere in dressed down clothing, and I am usually carrying a backpack as well; since, I need my writing tablets and books to keep me entertained. Who knew that was the leading example of what’s hot and sexy these days?

*sighs*

Even though I’ve lived in my neighborhood for about 17 years now, I can’t help but be afraid that I am one day going to come up missing behind one of these scrupulous men that fall over themselves to offer me a ride to my destinations.

I have to say that I have accepted a ride from strangers on two very odd occasions. One of which turned out to be to my luck. The driver got me home safely, and saved me from having to walk past a couple of men in a truck who were eying me like that day’s most desirable prey.

The other was was just odd, and I’ll leave it at that. I did, however, get a job offer out of it. Meh.

So that’s that. I always have to walk home looking over my shoulder and wondering when and if some guy is going to jump out of the shadows at me. I wish that things didn’t have to be this way, but I suppose that that is just the way of the world.

Danielle