Slashed by a Bear for wearing shorts

 So we're in the middle of a hurricane, and like most dogs, mine hates the rain.  I tried to get him to go outside but he just stood on the stoop, staring at me with his soulful pitbull eyes waiting to be let back in the house.  I sighed because I knew that this meant I'd have to go stand outside with him.  I tried standing with him right next to the door, but he just looked at me like I was stupid for not opening the door to get us out of the rain. Resignedly, I stepped into the yard. 

Now that seems like a lot of detail to give you for such a simple thing, but here's the issue.  I was still in my pajamas, and due to this oppressive southern heat, my pajamas were shorts.  I have been cursed (though most would say blessed because they don't know what it's like or are men) with a big ass.  I say that with all the hate in the world for this thing, because it brings me absolutely nothing but panic attack-inducing stress exacerbated by the negative attention that it brings from men. And I mean that as dramatically as it sounds.  There is an incredible amount of walking traffic in my neighborhood, so I can't even check the mail without receiving unwanted attention.  This story isn't even unique, it's just the most recent one.  But I digress.  

So when I stood outside with my dog, waiting for him to pee during a calm moment of Hurricane Debbie, I prayed that the craptastic weather would keep the men bears away.  

I looked up and discovered that the trash cans were set up too close to our cars and knew that the garbagemen would not maneuver to get them, so with a sigh I grabbed my keys so they could be accessed before the storm hit.  My anxiety grew, because this lengthened the amount of time I'd be outside in shorts.  I consciously had this thought.  Surely it would be fine, right?  I was only moving my car up a few feet after all.  Wrong.

When I got into my car, my dog still hadn't gone to the bathroom, so I decided to clean out my car to give him time.  My mistake.  Doing something so normal and common in shorts.  Just asking for it.....right?!

I hear a man start singing and I look up and immediately tensed.  You know the feeling.  Your muscles all freeze and your heart rate speeds up and your body temperature increases.  You're in fight or flight mode and it hasn't even happened yet.  Because you know what's coming.  We all do.  He notices my sorority tag and he makes a lewd comment about how you have to be "built like a brick house" to be in that sorority.  I ignore him.  Because, gross bro.  He's talking to the air, telling me that his aunt and sister were in the sorority, and I don't respond because frankly I'm thinking about how he just made that comment about bodies and followed it up talking about his own family. I clearly can't save him, he don't wanna be saved. 

I look up and that's when I notice him.  The younger one.  He's mid-thirties and he looks like a regular guy.  He's not unattractive, but I'm not interested. I immediately got a vibe. THE VIBE. There are so many ways you can avoid men that you're not interested in, and I can't describe it but the Chester energy he immediately put out made me ignore him when he asked my name.  I let him know from the very beginning that I didn't want to engage because I have learned that oft times any response at all isn't taken for the polite overture it is and is instead seen as an invitation for them to linger.  In truth, this tactic works best, because not all men will try again.  So, yes I chose to ignore him, knowing full well the situation could turn on a dime. He keeps asking my name, wondering aloud why I'm not answering him. And then, as expected his tone turns darker.  But he keeps walking and I take a deep breath because this unpleasant interaction is almost over.  Or so I think.  I'm looking out of my peripheral vision and it's unnerving because he is taking two or three steps and then pausing to look back.  It strikes me that it's almost cartoonlike he's doing it so slowly, and I can just tell in his head he's back in the 90s in a sandy beached love song video with his shirt open - it's obvious he's waiting for me to notice he's turned around and get out of the car (because at this point I'm cowering inside), and I do, every time.  Perhaps he has no clue that he's actually staring in the absolute most ominous and creepy way possible - his eyes are in full Manson lamp mode, boring through my very soul. And he's STILL talking.  He starts toward me and I hold my breath, but he turns back around and walks off angrily. Please keep it moving sir, nothing to see here but a girl carrying crushed McDonald's cups to the trash in the rain.  In shorts. 

In a moment of sheer panic, I decide that the best course of action is to leave. Mind you, I'm in front of my own home but I didn't want him to know for sure I lived there. My panicked logic told me that if I drove away, he wouldn't connect the dots and come back later. The fact is that his behavior and comments made me feel unsafe and I remember thinking, this isn't over, I hope he doesn't come back.  So I drove around the block and since there are nothing but one-way streets, this took awhile.  I left my own house to throw him off the scent.  People might think this is an overreaction, but the facts is that there are men that silently scream danger Will Robinson to us and I learned long ago to not ignore that feeling.  

Later in the day, I left to go pick up some school supplies for my son. I drove it, just fine, but a few hours later the weather started to turn so I went outside to move my car to higher ground.  It was then that I noticed the large gash in my tire.  

Perhaps I hit something.  Perhaps it was an old tire.  Perhaps.  Chances are it wasn't him. The point, however, is that his behavior was such that it was my first thought (and when I've shared this story with friends, they have ALL shouted out HE DID IT before I even finished that part of the story).  I'm simply asking men to reflect.  If you don't understand the whole man versus bear thing...just ask yourself how it even became a viable question in the first place.  Because it sounds ridiculous.  Right?  rIgHt? RIGHT?!

I can't help but wonder.  What is it like to be a man to just walk outside with his dog and not worry about what he's wearing attracting negative attention.  I didn't speak this into existence or manifest this harassment.  I was just outside.  Being a woman.  In shorts. And that was too much for both of them to bear.  A good morning nod as they continued on their way was too much to ask for.  Do men realize how absolutely terrifying they actually are with this predatory behavior?  Why do they keep pushing when it's so obvious that you're not interested?  And why do they take rejection so hard from absolute strangers?  

I don't know if this man actually slashed my tire, it was just a good title to illustrate how some women view the actions of certain men. The world will never know.  Some of you will read this and think I've overreacted and that I made more of it than it was.  To that I say, if you can't understand this reaction,  LUCKY YOU. 

You really don't have to poke the bear for him to attack.  There are simply times that he will attack because you are prey.  And because he is the predator.