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the Choice, hiding or suffering.

( Dear all, if you’re looking for a regular post- skip this one over, this one is mainly so I can vent- sorry if it bores you)

I should mention before I start this post that I live opposite a club, just off a main thoroughfare in my city. My street is entirely residential aside from this club and the grocery store half a block down. The club is loud and pretty freaking annoying, it stays open until 4a.m. on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Mondays. Which pretty much screws up my zen sleeping pattern for Fridays and Tuesdays.

Tonight, I went out with some people, now the night itself was a shitshow of epic proportion, so let me skip over that and talk about what really screwed me over. I got home at around 2:45. Approximately 10 minutes before my brother. When I walked up to the stoop there were two groups of people drinking there, all obviously from the bar opposite.One of the groups was a guy and a girl sharing a beer on the stoop, the other group was two dudes sitting there who macked on me big time before I reached the top step. Visual macking I can take, it’s when the ass-grabbing comes that I retaliate.

The stoop of my block leads up to a glass door that pushes open onto the mail boxes and doorbells, as well as the main door. I saw the two guys move behind me, and  instinct forced my foot  to move. I jammed my foot against the glass door. Not to be paranoid, but I know who lives in my building, and I know what drunks with a bad idea look like.

I told the two guys that the apt.block was private property through the door, and that they weren’t allowed passed the door, they proceeded to push at the door saying they were just looking for a good time. As I said, I had already preemptively placed my foot against the door, which meant that they encountered no movement from the glass door. They started yelling at me telling to “play nice” or I’d “pay for it”, my hand reached into my pocket where my phone had already dialled the number for the cops. I showed them the number on the screen, telling them I’d call the cops if they didn’t leave. In my head scenarios were running of all the possible outcomes of the night, somehow none of them figured a smiling, happy version of me.

To my great surprise and fear, they told me to go ahead and call, that they weren’t afraid, and that the cops wouldn’t make it in time. I dialled the number, they sent me to a holding zone. After a tense minute in which the two guys (one in a light blue shirt and white jeans, the other in a black shirt and grey jeans) continually yelled obscenities and threats and pushed against the door on which my foot was now barricaded. I finally got through to the cops, I explained what was going on, and they said they would send a squad car round.

At that second my brother turned up, and scared off the two guys. The two guys basically tried to stare him down, at which my brother has a pretty good advantage being 6″3. And large-ish. The two guys eventually (after a steam of threats and profanities, the threats at my brother and the profanity at me), the two guys effed off. My brother followed them to the end of the block and checked where they ran off to, and then came back to where I was standing.

I was talking to the couple who had been on the stoop. The chick agreed that the guys needed to be stopped by the cops, and when the cops arrived, she bailed. Her male friend convinced her to not report anything, and they ran off when the squad car showed up.

The cops looked me over, dressed up for the night, and 3a.m. I could tell they didn’t really think they were going to get far with this case. My brother told them the bar the two would-be-aggressors had gone into, we walked with the cops as we gave them descriptions.

One cop was muscle-bound and blond with close-cropped hair, the other was dark with a goatee, I told them what had happened. The cops looked at each other and just said ” so they didn’t hit you or anything, they just said things?”, I couldn’t belive it, two asshole-drunks had tried to forcibly break into my block, who had threatened me, and in no uncertain terms had told me I was going to be raped, and because they hadn’t been able to, they weren’t going to get in any sh*t from the cops???!!!

I looked at them, their faces were grave, and tinted by the street lamps. The cop with the goatee looked at me with what I guessed was his version of anger mixed with sympathy, he could see I was shaken up. He towered over me and and was trying to speak encourgingly, he knew how this was going to end, and he knew it wasn’t going to be the right ending. “We can’t nail these guys unless they did something”, he soothed, in a voice which was cracked and frail I muttered “They didn’t physically do anything aside from try to  break in, and I’m the only witness to that now”. The cop looked down at me and nodded slowly, at this point I knew he felt he was handing me a giant pile of nothing, which he couldn’t help , and obviously felt sh*tty about. He asked for my I.D. I handed it over, he took down the details, apologised for the fact he couldn’t do jack. The cop cars disappeared, having nothing else much to do aside from tell me I had acted as I should have,  and highlight me in front of the drunks at the club.

I walked home with my brother. My brother went to smoke on the stoop. When he came back up he said the two guys were back. they’d changed clothes, brought friends and they recognised himwhile he was on our stoop.

The two guys have been hanging around the neighbourhood with their friends since then. The cops won’t do anything unless someone is attacked.

I get it, they didn’t technically do anything, aside from threaten me, verbally abuse me, and attempt to force their way into my home. I’m okay,but only thanks to my brother, and the cops. I guess that is what pisses me off the most, I shouldn’t have been in that situation, home is supposed to be where you’re safe, I should be able as an emanciapted woman, in a western country, to be able to go home in my safe, suburban neighbourhood, without fear of being raped.

But the fear is there now.

My options are limited, I can’t stay cooped up in my house.If I stay in, and safe the assholes win. What exactly is it I’m supposed to do? I’m supposed to be equal, I’m supposed to be free, I’m supposed to be able to turn to the law.

When exactly did my choices become”hide” or “suffer”?

(obviously this is not the kind of post I want to write, but guidance or counsel would be really appreciated)

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About nemhulye

Born circa 1980 something.

2 responses to “the Choice, hiding or suffering.

  1. Sophie this is really fucked up. I cannot believe this is happening in the heart of Europe in Brussels. Something is really wrong in there. Did u consider talking to some woman rights organizations in your area? I am sure there are some. Maybe they can advise you something.

    What about the local municipality? Have u tried contacting them – this is not the first time the pub people bother you.

    And buy some pepper spray

  2. Sita

    You know my take on this. After work, or tomorrow when you’re off, find the nearest “spy” or personal protection shop and buy 2 handbag sized cans of pepper spray. Always make sure to have at least one in your bag, and if anything happens, dose those fucktards like it’s hairspray and you’re competing to create the best Mohawk in town on them.

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