The Time I Was Grabbed in the Pussy

Yes, you read the headline correctly. It happened to me. Almost a year and a half later it is still crazy to comprehend that it happened at all. This did not happen because I am single, or was dressed provocatively, or was drunk. It happened because I am a woman.

After the election in 2016, I was fearful that men of a certain type would now feel that they had carte blanche to grope women since our newly elected president clearly endorsed that type of behavior. I went to a bar crawl the following weekend and was ready to throat punch any guy that crossed the line. Thankfully (for them) they all kept their hands to themselves. As time passed, this became less of a concern as there were much bigger issues facing our country and I live in Los Angeles – not a hotbed of individuals that take doctrine from people like our sitting president.

The night this happened began fulfilling my dream of swimming in a pool of sprinkles at the Museum of Ice Cream. After enjoying the sweet treats and filling my phone with cute photos, my friend and I ventured down the street for some appetizers and wine. I had heard good things about the Everson Royce Bar and since it was just across the street we decided to stop in for one last beverage before heading home.

The big draw at Everson Royce is the large back patio so it was no surprise that the interior of the bar was virtually empty. As we were waiting at the bar itself to order drinks, a group of guys walked by us. It was then that the guy in the camo hoodie grabbed my crotch. For a moment I was just in shock. Did that really just happen? It was so brazen as he couldn’t pretend it an accident in a crowded bar. I turned to my friend and told her what had happened and she said that he grabbed her too. By this point camo hoodie had disappeared onto the patio but I wasted no time in alerting the bar to his behavior. I was not going to have the pleasure of throat punching him but I also was not going to let him get away without any consequences.

The staff at the bar reacted quickly. They found the individual and immediately kicked him out. They introduced us to the security guard and made arrangements for him to walk us to my car when we were ready to leave. I appreciated their zero tolerance of this behavior however once the dust settled in the days to follow I was angry that more hadn’t been done. I don’t place the blame on the bar. I’m sure this was uncharted territory for them. I do however wish that the police had been called either at my suggestion or theirs.

I can tell you why I didn’t insist on the police being called and while it seemed like the right decision at the time, I regret not choosing differently. It was the end of the night and I was tired. The idea of waiting what could be hours for the police seemed exhausting. I had enjoyed a couple glasses of wine and had also driven that evening. I would likely have to leave my car and return for it the following day not to risk being a hair over the legal limit in an interaction with the police. I chose what was convenient for me rather that what was right. What camo hoodie did was sexual assault and he essentially got away with a slap on the wrist rather than being listed on the sex offender registry for the rest of his life. I highly doubt that this was a one time lapse in judgment for this guy and I could have stopped someone else from this or something much worse.

So why am I sharing this story now? I had intended to post this immediately after it happened, then on the anniversary of the election, then after #metoo, then on the anniversary of when it happened and life kept getting in the way. Or at least that’s what I told myself. The reality is that I just didn’t want to write this story. I am not ashamed of what happened to me but I knew putting this into words would be exhausting. I couldn’t stay silent any longer after this past week.

Now that I have shared, what’s next? This is not an issue of left v. right but rather right v. wrong. I didn’t share this story for your pity or sympathy. I shared it because I want your anger. For those that know me, angry that this IS happening to people you know. For those that don’t know me, angry that this is happening AT ALL. So what should you do with that anger?

• Speak up – don’t stand by and watch sexual harassment and assault happen to others. Step in if needed and be part of the solution. Boys will be boys is OVER. Boys AND girls will be good humans.
• Teach – make sure the children in your life know that they control their bodies and only their bodies. Teaching consent at an early age can be as simple as not insisting that they need to hug a relative if they don’t want to do so.
• Report – if it happens to you, take the hard step and report it immediately.

Thank you for letting me share my story with you. Let us all work towards a world where stories like this are obsolete. 

*While I realize that this does not tie into the main scope of this blog, it is a story that needs to be told.