I’m having a nice night. I’m a borderline teetoaller so it doesn’t take much alcohol to make me happy (in fact being drunk is such an exciting rare event that I have to talk about my drunken state constantly to whoever is around). About 11.30 my friend is heading home, so I walk with him. We stop and admire the shop that has left alone the “Clint Rickards: Rapist Scum” graffiti and the fake recruitment poster.<\/p>\n
We go to the dairy that is open until midnight and buy some snacks. I buysome chocolate and water; he buys some strawberry and cream lollies and a red licorice twisty thing. I make him sit down and talk with me for a bit, because I don’t want to walk up the hill just yet. We sion the corner and yell at the police cars that go by (“Clint Rickards is a Rapist”, “Stop Police Rapists” and a rather ridiculous “Police Rapists Suck”).<\/p>\n
Then I say goodbye and head up the hill. I’m thinking to myself about the blog posts I am going to write when I get home (mostly about why the existance of the police are the problem, not a few bad apples). From about a third of the way up the hill there is park on both sides of the road and that’s when I became particularly aware of my surroundings. I notice the man walking behind me; I notice the cars going past.<\/p>\n
I am about half way up when a car stops about 40 metres in front of me. No-one gets out. There’s nothing there. The car just stops.<\/p>\n
What I usually do in these situations (because fear is regular enough that you have a plan) is unlock my cell phone. But I don’t have a cellphone so I just hold my keys (interlaced between my fingers) and a half empty water bottle (weighing all of half a kilo).<\/p>\n
I just keep on walking; I don’t look at them. I try to keep breathing and wait to see what happens. I just get past them when they start moving again. They follow me slowly for a few steps, and then drive off.<\/p>\n
I’m relieved; all these two men and their car wanted to do was scare me. I’m OK now.<\/p>\n
I walk home and start composing a new blog post, about what just happened. Because all I can do is write about it. All I can do is register the power that fear has over me.<\/p>\n
This post is open to feminist and feminist friendly comments only.<\/p>\n
Update<\/b> That should read feminist commenters only, not just comments – this is what happens when a teetoller writes after drinking.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’m having a nice night. I’m a borderline teetoaller so it doesn’t take much alcohol to make me happy (in fact being drunk is such an exciting rare event that I have to talk about my drunken state constantly to … Continue reading