I was standing in line at the Jamba
Juice, passing time before class. I walked up, ordered, and paid. Then I turned
around and stepped back to wait. They walked by, turning around to stare –
apparently my white t-shirt and floral shorts were some kind of provocative. I
made eye contact unintentionally. Just the day before my mother had encouraged
me to be friendlier, to smile. So I did, awkwardly. Never before has a smile
been a mistake, but this day it was. He came back for me, invading my space,
forcing me to shake his hand. “You’re beautiful.” He said. I replied with quiet words of thanks, not sure what else to do. As a slight introvert, I don’t talk to
strangers much, especially not strange leering men. He leaned towards me,
pushing for me to talk to him, making me more uncomfortable by the minute. “You
are beautiful” and “Will you buy me a smoothie?” were his go-to lines. He
repeated them over, and over, almost as though it were a song, while running
his hands through his dark brown hair that matched his chocolate skin. I did my
best to rebuff him. “Thanks,” I said again. “My boyfriend tells me that every day.”
He continued, and finally got to me, and I began to snap. “No, I wont buy you a smoothie. I
work too hard for my money to spend on someone who has enough.” He was unfazed,
he chuckled, he didn’t care. The last few minutes were a blur, but I think I
remember finally letting the words “Go away” pass my lips in a whisper. He
responded, for the first time in that long five minutes, the way I wanted him
to, only, not. He declared that I was rude, and a bitch, and walked away
clearly offended, griping to his friend about “women these days.” Because I
forced myself into his personal space, because I asked him uncomfortable
questions. Because, clearly, I am a bitch.
Writing this passage brought up a
lot of feelings, and it was important to me to convey them to the audience.
First, I did not refer to him by name, or by a descriptive pronoun. I
considered using “the man” or “the boy” but I felt they gave him too much. In
the moment that this happened, he was a “he” – something other, something
threatening and scary. I gave details about his behavior and appearance slowly,
only as they became relevant to the story. I think this highlights how foreign
he was to me, because he presented himself in a predatory manner rather than as
a fellow human. The main emotion I wanted the reader to experience was the feeling of being
trapped. I was waiting for a smoothie I paid for, so I felt like I couldn’t
just walk away. In another situation I probably would have. I referenced
physical and social footings only as they became important. It began with physical
footing, and social was developed later on. I also used direct quotes, which
gives the reader further insight into the related social footing.
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