Of all the indignities one has to suffer on account of being publicly female, nothing irks me quite as much as being screamed at from of passing cars. Or so is the case as of late, anyway.

Harassment by random jerks is, of course, nothing new.

It happens on Internet forums. It happens to children - sometimes with terrible consequences (and lingering questions as to what, exactly, can be done about such phenomena). Even record companies are not above harassment nowadays, or so I’ve read.

Yet, what I hate about drive-by harassment in particular is how bloody cowardly it is, and how unnerving for the victim it can also be. There’s nothing quite as easy and consequence-free as rolling down your window and shouting something malicious at a startled pedestrian before speeding away.

I’ve traveled enough to know that this sort of thing happens everywhere - from sleepy suburban subdivisions in the Bible Belt to cosmopolitan cities in Muslim countries to the parking lots of upscale shopping malls in the heart of Europe. Here, there, and everywhere, the common denominator seems to be gender: the perpetrators are usually male and their targets are usually female.

My love of travel combined with my love of walking results in the fact that I often get shouted at in languages I don’t understand. This creates an entirely new dimension of creepy. What is the guy saying?

“Hey sexy, lookin’ good!”…?

“Your visible elbows are offensive to me!”…?

“Dear God, I’ve just discovered an enraged king cobra under my seat, please do something!”…?

I may never know. Read More »