Let's Not Meet Again

Man On The Train

This happened about two months ago. I live in a really big city with a train/subway system (I want to say which city so that other people can look out for this guy, but I can't tell if that's allowed). I take the train about an hour every day to get home from classes, and on some days it's already dark by the time I get off. This particular day, I was on the train at about 10 PM.

Now, I'm used to creepy/much older men hitting on me when I'm out and about. Three months ago I was walking to the train and an older man told me he wanted to "crawl up my dress" but he couldn't because "a young thing like you would give me a heart attack." I actually wrote an essay for a class about all the fun ways older men have tried to hit on me on the train, which I had to turn into a video essay. This relates to my main story because I was actually shooting B roll footage for that video essay when the incident happened.

So I was sitting on the train, shooting low-effort footage with my phone, when a man sat down next to me. He was probably 35-40 years old, and much much bigger than me. He was just sitting there, reading something on his phone. I couldn't really film anymore with this guy next to me, so I stopped and just sat there playing sudoku puzzles.

Then I noticed that this guy had stopped looking at his phone and had put his hands down at his sides. His palm was resting on the side of his thigh, meaning that the back of his hand was lightly brushing against my thigh. I shifted my weight away from him, but I assumed it was an accident.

A few seconds later, I felt the back of his hand against my thigh again. I moved slightly away again, still thinking it was an accident. Then it happened again, but this time it was less subtle. He wasn't brushing against me anymore, he was resting his hand on my thigh. I crossed my legs and scooted as far away as I could. I still wasn't sure if I was imaging it or not, since I guess I give people too much credit sometimes.

To give a tiny bit of context, I was wearing a skirt that was pretty short, so when he brushed against me, it was my bare skin. Also, I was in the window seat, so there was only so far I could move from him. If I wanted to leave, that meant I had to basically climb over him, which seemed like a really terrifying prospect since alarm bells were going off in my head.

Anyway, at that point he had me basically squished up against the window with my legs crossed. Every time I moved away, he just spread his legs farther apart so his hand could stay on my thigh. He wasn't being sneaky anymore, he was just pretending nothing was happening. I felt his fingers move as if he was feeling my skin. I was extremely uncomfortable, and I'm ashamed to say that I was really scared too. That late at night, there weren't that many people on the train. I also worried (maybe irrationally) that if I made a fuss the other passengers wouldn't do anything or wouldn't step in to help.

So I was sitting there, half scared and ashamed, half worried that I was still imagining things. I had never been in this type of situation before; I'd been hit on, even in extremely inappropriate ways, but no one had ever just touched me without once speaking a word. It felt so violating that he clearly thought that I wouldn't do anything, that I would just let him touch me however he wanted since he was being so "subtle." It was even worse to find out that he was a little bit right since I had no clue what to do.

Then he started to slide his hand up my skirt. At this point, we were two stops away from my station. I knew that stepping over him in a skirt was a risky move, but I had to get out. I was so angry and terrified. I felt his disgusting sweaty hand worming it's way under my clothes and I wanted to punch him in the face... but I didn't, sadly. Instead I did as much as I could muster, and I grabbed his hand, threw it off of me, and made a break for the doors. I felt him touch me as I passed over him.

He stayed seated until he saw where I was getting off, and then he stood and followed. I walked as fast as I could to get out of the station, but he followed me. Unfortunately, the shortest path back to my apartment involves going under two dimly lit underpasses. So I ran. I only looked back twice, but both times he was back there, keeping pace while trying to stay casual. It was dark, and my neighborhood is pretty empty at night. I was so scared I started crying. I've been sexually assaulted before (that time was by someone I knew) so I started to panic.

Eventually I made it to my apartment building. I had my keys ready in my hand, and as I unlocked the door I looked down the street and didn't see him. It didn't make me feel any safer.

I made it inside, told my roommate what had happened, and then locked myself in my room for a bit. I've had to take the train almost every day since, but I haven't seen him again. I just wish that I had called the police, but in my mind at the time it didn't feel like a "big enough of a deal" to bother them with. Next time though, I'm calling the cops.