Excuse Me...Do I Know You? (Assignment 5)

After a long, sweaty, dirty diaper stenched, non-airconditioned bus ride from Florence to Pisa, followed by a flight from Pisa to Paris, the last thing I wanted to do was get on the cramped subway for an hour. However, that’s exactly what we had to do in order to get to the part of Paris that we wanted. So, as we hopped on the Subway, I managed to find a place to sit, one of the last small, fold-out seats placed inconveniently directly next to where people enter and exit the subway. However, as more and more people entered, I decided it would be polite of me to stand up and make as much room as possible for those struggling to fit inside.

After we’ve passed a number of stops (and by that I mean way too many), while also being trampled by people coming and going, we reach another stop, where a (what seemed to be) local French boy, roughly 18 years old, steps on. He manages his way past the people in the doorway, and stands directly in front of me. As we all know, the subway forces you to become beyond close with strangers, due to a complete lack of space, as so many people utilize this public transportation system. So, as the boy stands closely in front of me, I don’t think all too much of it. That is until I look down towards my feet and notice his pale hand reaching behind his back. I look down and almost immediately think he’s trying to pickpocket me, my pockets and purse only inches away from his lower back. After being warned about pick-pocketers an unnecessary amount of times on this trip, I couldn’t help but assume that’s what his aim was. So I attempt to step back a bit. I see his hand reaching behind his back again, low and discreetly. However, clearly not discreetly enough. I step back a bit more. He reaches back a third time, this time turning around with a creepy smirk on his face, implying that he was doing something he thought I actually enjoyed. He wasn’t trying to pickpocket me. He was trying for something else. Who did he think he was? Who did he think I was?! I’m not sure what his mother taught him, but I know damn well that my brothers were taught to respect women. As he grazes the side of my leg with his hand, I say “excuse me!” aloud and immediately step away as far as I can manage while in this overcrowded train car. I can’t help but immediately think back to when I watched the movie “Taken.” A movie based on two innocent, American girls, sharing a cab with a stranger, which ultimately leads to their kidnapping. I know relating my situation to this may be a stretch, but even the simplest of encounters can lead to danger. I felt disgusted. I felt violated. I was insulted and offended that he was so quick to assume that a random stranger, who was also clearly an American girl, would go for something like that. Immediately repulsed by all French guys, I thanked the Lord when he got off at the next stop.