On Power

I witnessed something very interesting on the tube this morning. I'm getting off at Warren Street, and walking up the left hand side of the escalator (seriously, what is with the standing people? You want to spend more time breathing in that rank air?), and there's someone standing, like, y'know, on the left side, in my way, so my upward progress is halted. It is a woman, and she's talking into this guy who is standing on the right side. And she's saying:

"You grabbed my ass, didn't you? You did. I know you did. I felt it. There was no-one else it could have been. So it was you. Wasn't it? Not responding? That's okay. I've got all day. I'm going to follow you. I can follow you all day, you sick freak. Got your briefcase there? You must be going to work. Great- I can't wait to tell everyone at your work what a sick freak you are. Will you enjoy that? I don't think you will...."

and so on all the way up the escalator and out the gates, like, she literally never stopped talking in a way that, to be blunt, only young black women can seem to do. And, y'know, if I'd had to make a judgement call on the spot, I'd have to say that from the expression on the guy's face, he HAD grabbed her ass. Not only was he making a concerted effort at very studiously ignoring her, but he was red-faced and sweating and looked as guilty as hell. He also looked kind of like an ass-grabber. Y'know, he was in a suit, but it was old and brown and shabby. He had a thin grey combover and a sallow, up-all-night-looking-at-p*rn kind of look about him. So fascinated was I by this scenario that when they exited the gates, I actually followed the pair for a short while, listening to this woman rant on and on at this guy who, even though he probably was an ass-grabber, I felt immense pity for, at this time.

Now, if this woman was groped, good on her for taking action. I remember when we first moved to London, my girlfriend at the time came home in absolute tears one day, because she'd been the victim of a tube-groper. I was quite upset as well, and when I asked her what she'd done, she said she hadn't done anything. She'd just frozen. Apparently it went on for like a minute, and Amy had just stood absolutely still, paralyzed with fear. Which was a frightening lesson into the sort of powerless world she lived in, and I guess a lot of women do. So good on this lady for actually taking action. I don't know if I told you about the time earlier this year when I was on a bus, and this school kid was kicking the wall next to my head, which was not only annoying but also threatening. I asked him several times to stop, and then I threatened him (specifically: "Stop or I will break your fucking fingers."). He called my bluff, which put me into a pretty frustrating spot. Either I break his fingers, which is illegal, 27 year old guy attacking a 13-year old kid, what's my excuse? "He wouldn't stop kicking the wall!" The only other alternative, which I seriously considered, was following him to whatever school he was going to, and then asking one of the teachers there to discipline him. But that's kind of crazy, too, following little kids around? So instead I said fuck it and just went to work, but still, I was quite angry with myself, and the lack of power I had to stop stupid brats doing whatever the fuck they like. So I admire someone with the moxy to actually take action.

But the alternative scenario (which, I should emphasize, I don't believe for a second) is that this woman was off her rocker and was just assaulting this poor guy. Maybe she was groped on a crowded tube and just didn't see who did it. Maybe she's about to ask him to give her money or she'll follow him around all day. Maybe she's just plain mental and picked him at random to harass (she certainly seemed, ah, well, a little crazy). So I found myself wondering what I'd do in that situation. Go to work? Not bloody likely. Go to the nearest police station? Again, may just give her fuel for her little fire, there. [as an aside (and I apologize that this is mostly asides), when I was a teacher, after disciplining one of my students, she looked at me and said: "I'm going to tell someone you tried to molest me." and, instead of responding to her, I immediately left the classroom, went to the Principal, and related that story. Believe me, that's one minefield you don't want to start dancing around in] So what would you do? I'd probably get a cab and explain to the cabbie that she wasn't with me. Still, you could see this guy was so flustered that he wasn't thinking straight. Which is either great injustice or a terrible infamy, depending on how guilty he was. I sure hope he didn't lead her into an alley and brain her with his suitcase.