Hey Baby, You Want a Ride?

…No? Well fuck you, too.

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains instances of sexual harassment and stalking. Proceed with caution.

Hey baby, you want a ride?

I know you turned me down the last four or five times I drove by the bus stop this week, yet here I am again today.

Why don’t you come sit in the A/C, it’s nice and cool in here. The light’s turning green, you still won’t get in my truck. Why not?

It’s big right? I got some other BIG things in here too. Heh, heh, get it?

Maybe if I circle back around and ask again, you’ll definitely take my offer.

Can you not see me? I’m making DIRECT eye contact with you.

What’s that?

Leave you ALONE?

How DARE you.

Who do you think you are to say NO to ME?

Well, fuck you too bitch.

…but I’ll be back tomorrow.

Hey baby, I see you’re walking your dogs. They’re nice dogs. Big too.

You want a ride?

Hey. Hey.

…Hey.

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Photo by Bailey Hall on Unsplash

Do you see me? I’m looking at you, I’m making DIRECT eye contact.

Hello? Hey. You like my Honda Civic? Let me rev the engine for you real quick.

Vroom vroom, bitch.

Oh yeah, that definitely got your attention. I am the MAN.

Why don’t you give me a smile? You should smile more.

No seriously…smile.

So, how bout that ride?

No? You mean you DON’T want to shove your pets into the backseat of my vehicle, hop into my passenger seat, and recreate a scene from every stupid muscle car movie in existence?

I’m basically Jason Statham in The Transporter.

Hello? Maybe if I just drive slow enough…

Man, I know you see me.

What’s wrong with women nowadays? Ya’ll don’t know how to accept a compliment anymore. So rude.

You ugly anyway.

Fuck you too, then.

[Driver accelerates into the sunset, middle finger extended. Scene.]

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Photo by TOKYOQU on Unsplash

Hey baby, I see you’re jogging in shorts.

Did you do that just for me? I bet you did.

You’re signaling me down for a ride aren’t you?

I know it’s the middle of the day and hot as shit, but you should cover your body from head to toe if you don’t want attention. MY attention, specifically.

I see what you’re doing, the same thing all you women do.

You put on your slutty “workout” clothes and pretend to care about things like “health” and “osteoporosis.”

Please.

I’m certain that with as little self-respect that you have, you’ll definitely get in my car.

Go ahead, wave down some bystanders for help. Do it.

Hah! See, no one cares. I could follow you all the way home and no one would stop me.

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Screenshot taken by cece

You’d probably like that wouldn’t you? You want me to follow you home. Slut.

Hey baby,

I’ve been watching you for awhile now.

I offered you a ride, the other day. And the day before that.

Actually, I’ve been doing this for weeks now, you ungrateful bitch.

I’ll still be here. Watching.

Did you like the gifts I left on your doorstep?

I sent flowers to your job. Did you get them?

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Photo by Ian Espinosa on Unsplash

Why don’t you like me? Why?

WHY?

How about I meet you in the parking lot of your job tonight, it’ll be SO romantic.

There you are.

Don’t you want to get in my car? GET IN.

Is this funny for you? Are you enjoying making a fool out of ME?

Maybe I should just fucking kill you.

The first three stories were curated from my own personal experiences. I included the links from other stories to show you that I am only one of thousands of women who have gone through the same, if not worse instances of stalking.

One day, I finally got fed up with the man at the bus stop. I went to a police officer and asked for his help; I let him know that the man in the truck had been following me for weeks. “Well, maybe he’s in love with you” he said to me, shrugging it off and walking away.

Well, maybe he’s in love with you.

I never asked the authorities for help again after that. It hadn’t been the first time they failed me, and I am far from being the only one. On average, 54% of women who were killed by their stalkers reported it to the police.

Let me say that again- 54% of our mothers, daughters, aunts, grandmothers, cousins, and friends have been killed by their stalkers.

More often than not, the responsibility is placed on women to find a solution.

We should carry a weapon.

We shouldn’t wear revealing clothing.

We shouldn’t run alone at night.

We shouldn’t lead men on.

We should find different routes of travel to avoid unwanted attention.

When will society teach men that it’s not okay to kill us…just because?

When will parents start giving their sons “the talk,” instead teaching their daughters how not to get raped?

When will law enforcement start listening to victims before they die?

Why do women have to live in fear while their stalkers walk free?

Introverted animal lover and financial enthusiast. https://medium.com/the-millenial-investor

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