privilege

i’m going to my first jiujitsu/self-defense class tomorrow. jiujitsu was recommended to me because the starting spar position is on the back.

the doorman across the street and i used to be friendly in passing. once, he helped me hail a cab. but last week, he crossed the street to talk to me, gave me a hug, then asked about the food i smelled like. it probably wasn’t a freudian slip that he said, “i want to taste you.” then he grabbed me and kissed me on the cheek more than a couple of times.

i wasn’t sure what to do so i made up my mind to tell him that he made me very uncomfortable if he approached me again, kept my lights on constantly, and kept my curtains drawn. the man’s job is to watch me come and go. he knows where i live.

last night, i guess he could still see into my apartment even though my curtains were almost entirely drawn - just the slightest crack allowed a side view.  i got home - sweaty, skin peeled, sore - and i came back out into the main room of my apartment to get dressed after my shower. he crossed the street and sidled up next to the window. he tried to press close to the wall of my building so that i wouldn’t see him.

i walked away calmly from where i sat. i got dressed. i took the books off the windowsill and pinned the curtains shut.

$50,000 a year at penn still won’t buy me the right parents, or the urge to fit in with people who think that betty draper is a cool halloween costume. it will never pay for the masculine ability to walk around without fear of being raped.

but at least it pays for commissioned big-city police officers who work for the school. big-city police officers who actually offered me a beverage and kindly treatment, and made a stern phone call on my behalf.  it’s a lot better than what a lot of women get.

still, i certainly wouldn’t want to be unprepared on my back.