Your Worst Experience of Being Hit On

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

After reading through Squeaker Snow’s post about unexpectedly receiving attention from attractive men, and the responses to said post, I began to wonder about the potential for disaster a situation like that could bring. Most of you have probably been in some very uncomfortable situation, receiving romantic/sexual attention you didn’t want. What are the absolute worst experiences you have ever received?

Personally, I was once “complimented” by an orthodontal assistant. While he was checking my teeth. At the time, I was fourteen years old. Needless to say, I believe I was permanently scarred from that experience.

Your turn! :smiley:

2

I posted this in another thread a few months ago, but it definitely qualifies for this one.

My husband leads a band, so I often go to the band’s gigs to watch them play. This means that I am often a girl sitting by herself in a bar, and wowee, the drunks do come a-callin’. Mostly to ineptly hit on me, but occasionally to be outright disturbing.

Worst one:
Starts out innocuously enough. Guy who’s been checking me out passes by and offers a handshake. I shake his hand.

Guy comes back 10 minutes later and says, “You’re very pretty. Very pretty.” I say thanks, he walks away again.

Comes and sits next to me a little while later, and things quickly devolved. I mostly stayed because I didn’t know how to extricate myself, but also out of morbid fascination about what he would say next. The following are direct quotes with some of the drunk mumbling taken out for clarity. Keep in mind that I could only understand about 1/3 of what he said, so who knows what other horrifying revelations were in there that I just didn’t catch.

“When I look at a woman’s ass I want to see that I could put a nickel about halfway up her back and have it roll right into the crack of her ass. I noticed you as soon as you walked in and you’ve got a great ass. A great ass. It’s a champion ass.* I’d like to put a nickel in it.”

“I love to masturbate. I do it all the time. Someone who says they don’t, they’re lying. Someone asks me if I masturbate, I raise both hands. I coached football and the first thing I asked my guys was who pulled their pudding. There were three that didn’t raise their hands, so I made them pull down their pants and jerk it right there in the locker room in front of the rest of the team. Cuz the whole team needs to do that to have the right energy. I don’t allow prisses on my team. They could either masturbate right there or get out and not play. Every one of them did it.”

“You been to North high school? They got a picture of my old man on the wall there in the locker room. They called him Big Jim when he was there. And let me tell you, he was built like me. He wasn’t a big guy in frame. They called him Big Jim because of the size of his cock. My dad had a huge cock. I’m built like him. You go to the high school and look at his picture. Called him Big Jim because of his dick.”

All this in the span of about 10 minutes before I finally bailed and rallied a group of strangers into shielding me from him. Holy crow. Oh yeah, and he has five grandkids, “he thinks.” “You think?” I say. “Isn’t that something you should know?” “Yeah, well, my daughter’s run off and she don’t talk to me no more.” Gee, I wonder why.

  • My husband now calls me “Champ” in honor of this
3

Beadalin thanks for not waiting till page 2 to post that. Saved me the hassle of typing out my experience, since nothing that has happened to me will compare :slight_smile:

4

Second-worst was in a strip club. A (male) friend of mine was really depressed after being dumped by his long-term girlfriend so I went out with them to the strip club. He had been asking me to go before, and I said no. I was sitting near the stage and this toothless, whiskery, 70-ish man starts touching my leg and saying hello. (I’m was 25 at the time.)

Worst started on the bus. A stocky Pakistani or Indian man leaned over and asked me what street we were on. (We were on State Street, the most recognizable street in Madison.) He had bad breath. I told him shortly (but politely), trying to lean away. He ended up following me off the bus and following me around asking me questions, and telling me that “I know you like me by the way you talked to me on the bus.” I repeatedly explained I wasn’t interested.

He kept saying the most random things, like “I will take you on a boat ride on the lake if you meet me in front of the Blockbuster Video.” (This was winter in Wisconsin.) He also asked me “How many dates would be needed before we marry?” and “Are you Christian? If so, is ok! I like Christians!” He told me “You are beautiful, like rose!” and then asking me if I would lose weight. He told me I couldn’t work if I was married to him and he wanted to get married right away. All this time, I’m saying “Please, I’m not interested, please leave me alone” and he’s ignoring it.

He followed me so long that I started walking around the capital square block in circles rather than lead him to my nearby apartment. He tried to get his hand up my shirt and I batted him away. There weren’t any people around and I was afraid to get too angry with him, as I didn’t want to provoke the situation. He would not leave me alone and all of the businesses were closed so I didn’t really know what to do. Finally I hugged him (ew) as that was the only way to get him to leave. He then showed me his university ID and he was an assistant professor. I thought about pursuing it but really after getting away I didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

5

I worked on campus in the foodservice establishments while going to college. Most of the time I was a cashier, and I had quite a few people hit on me while working as a cashier. The worst of the guys who’d do it were either on the football team (I only knew because other people would get too excited about their presence on campus) or in a fraternity that was well-known on campus for having a lot of rape accusations thrown at them. The single most humiliating instance of being hit on came from one of the football players. He comes up, pays for his food, and asks me how much I cost. Uh, wtf? Seriously, he’s very lucky I kept it at “More than you could possibly afford” instead of ripping him a new one for having the audacity to try and solicit me in that fashion.

How on earth does one think they’re going to get a date with an average person if they approach them with a solicitation as if they were a prostitute?

6

When I was 18, I got my first tattoo at a pretty well respected shop for being out in the boonies. The tattoo artist was an old grizzled biker type, in his late 50’s or so. Certainly older than my father, anyway. His receptionist happened to be his wife. Sorry, make that his ex-wife. She opened the mail while I was in the chair and told him that their divorce paperwork had just come through. “Fucking hallelujah,” he said, and the two of them sniped at each other for a bit while he was tattooing my abdomen.

And then turned and asked me out. Right there, needle in my skin, while his very, very recently ex fumed not 10 feet away.

[Jon Stewart] AWKward![/Jon Stewart]

7

I was bartending one night when a guy came in and sat at the bar. Now, I’ll be friendly to just about anyone up to a point. I made polite conversation with him, changed the tv to the channel he wanted to watch, and poured him a couple beers.

But every once in a while, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that he was staring at me…intently. At first, I just thought he might need me. In a restaurant setting, when someone is staring at the person who is responsible for getting them what they need, one can assume that they need something. I would make my way down to where he was sitting, ask if he was doing alright, then move on to washing glassware or something. But he kept staring.

Then, he dropped the bomb. “You sure are pretty.” I thanked him for the compliment. “Do you ever sing?” I told him no. Then he went on to tell me that he had a keyboard at home with all kinds of pre-programmed beats and stuff on it. Would I like to come over and sing for him? I told him I don’t sing, I don’t go to strange men’s homes, and I’m married. His response: Can I have your phone number?

I’m not sure if he was hitting on me or looking for his next victim.

8

Two of 'em. Both people much older than me.

Several years ago I worked for a major public utility here in CA. A bunch of us were doing upgrades for one department and I happened to get Jose’s machine on my list. I was under 30. Jose was in his 50s. I’m a straight male.

Jose would not leave me alone. Asking me out to lunch. Bumping into me at the bus station. I wound up talking to two bosses about him.

Became funnier when Jose began hitting on my supervisor (a former defensive lineman)…“You would look very nice in a kilt” was one of his lines, we both still howl about that one.

I think Jose was a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

About two years ago at my current job we got a new supervisor, single woman in her 50s. She began calling me “Cutie” at every opportunity. I had to go to HR to get that to stop. She got fired the day of her 6 month review/probationary period, universally disliked.

Both very creepy experiences.

9

Once for Halloween, I decided to dress as Tarzan. The costume consisted of a ragged leopard print undie over an intact leopard undie. I got more propositions that day than you care to count including several arse-grabs. All from guys!

He must be lying then (or has very agile lower extremities!)

10

Not sure if this qualifies… but it was certainly weird.

18 Years old. First day of a two-day “pre-basic” training before going into Basic for 3 months. This is near Haifa, and my parents (with whom I was still living at the time) lived in Tel-Aviv, 60 miles away.
So, come 7 pm or so, I’m all ready to suffer my first night of Barracks’ Sleeping, when the NCO tells us all that we can go off base for the night if we’re back by 8 AM. So this other kid in my platoon, with whom I got friendly over the day, tells me “Hey, I live in Haifa, want to sleep over at my place?” Well, I wasn’t going home… (get there by 8 AM from T-A using public transportation? I’d rather sleep in a flea-infested sleeping bag and start getting used to it, thankyouverymuch), so I say “thank you” and off we go…
Well, turned out the guy was renting his own apt. (at 18). AND it turned out the dude was gay… Needless to say, he thought I realized the fact. Which, at the young (and sheltered) age of 18, I did not. Not that I didn’t know of homosexuality; I just had absolutely no “gaydar.” Come to think of it… still don’t.
Anyway, long story short, he was actually perfectly nice about it; backed off completely when he realized I had no interest, I had a good night’s sleep, and we were actually very good friends throughout Basic. And (not sure if because or despite the incident) I have remained very pro-gay-rights ever since (although I’m 100% straight)

11

Lord, there are many. I’ll give a recent night as an example, just because there were so many in one night and so humerous.

I was out at a bar where my friends’ band were playing, I was helping them out by selling merchandise for them. My husband was along too and we were hanging out by the t-shirts and stuff to sell. I went up to the bar to get more drinks, and while I was waiting I felt someone kind of petting me on the back. I turned around and saw a very drunk, almost asleep man looking at me. The woman next to him smiled at me and said, “you will have to excuse my friend. He is trying to read what it says on your shirt but he is a little drunk.” He then mumbled something like “f-in HOT” but I just smiled at her and went on my way. Later I saw him asleep in the corner.

Later that night another guy came up to me, saying “you know what? You are the most f-in beautiful woman here. You know why? Because of your personality.” I thought it was clever of him to figure that out without even speaking to me. He went on and on for a while, then when he learned I was married and indeed, my husband was standing nearby (with an amused expression) he went up to my husband and started telling him “dude, your wife is f-in hot! I mean it, she is smokin!” and giving him hi-fives. That was the first time I ever had someone give up on me and decide to just talk to my husband for a while. My husband was very amused by him and proceeded to hi-five him. He says he gave the guy credit for acknowledging him.

Still later that evening I was stopped by another guy who told me all about how he was a surgeon and how he wished he could find someone like me, blah blah. I was thinking that if he really was a surgeon he would have no problem!

Another story. Recently a bunch of us were out for a bachelorette party, by this time it was getting late and 3 of us decided to go to a bar for a while. We were searching for a spot to sit and thought we found a place, but a group of guys stopped us and said that area was reserved for a bachelor party. We said sorry and turned to leave, when one of them said, “hey, if you take off your shirts, we will let you stay.” We politely declined. Later we were standing around when we overheard another guy giving a friend a little lesson while looking at us: “What you do is, you find a group of girls, and you find the drunkest one. Then you buy her 2 more shots, and bam! She is going home with you.” My friend turned and looked at them, and he quickly looked away, but we all bust out laughing over that one. She was tempted to go up to them and say “I am the drunkest one. Want to buy me a drink?”

12

Okay, you realize at this point you were fully justified in kicking him in the shin (or the knee) or poking him in the eye? I used to work at a martial arts school where we provided women’s self defense training to various groups (mostly battered womens’ shelters and the like, but occasionally womens’ campus groups) and one of my greatest frustrations were comments like, “Well, he stuck his hand down my pants and blah blah blah, but I didn’t want to cause an incident.” Excuse me? If a dude did that to me there’s a good chance he’d be requiring the services of a cranioskeletal reconstructive surgeon.

Next time, either flag down a black & white or just clock that sucker upside the head with a Comprehensive History of Philosophy text (it has to be good for something); if not for yourself, do it for the next poor woman who doesn’t have your self-esteem or willingness to repulse such a disreptuable member of humanity.

I’m thankful to say that none of my fumbling attempts as hitting on a woman are anywhere as unsavory as those listed so far. The worst I’ve seen was a guy at a bar who wouldn’t stop hitting on the bartender, a petite but very tough (and frankly, tough looking) bleach blonde. It was a quiet night and the bouncer was standing outside sucking on a heater and chatting up a couple of underage co-eds who were trying to convince him to let them in when one obviously drunk and unwelcomely amorous patron leaned over the bar and grabbed/patted/pinched the bartender on the ass. Without hestitation (perhaps reflexively) she grabbed the bottle of Galliano–the big tapered bottle of yellow liqueur which mixers frequently refer to as “The Persuader”–off of the back shelf and broke it right over his head. After that, the bouncer did his job–literally bouncing the guy off the pavement–and everything returned to normal. I kept my mouth shut and left her a nice tip; just sayin’.

Stranger

13

Back in college, I had a part-time job at one of the student centers. I did it well, kept my nose clean, and collected my check. I had a boss who was cool, but she had an assistant who was a bit strange. The assistant kept kind of hitting on me. I wanted the job, so I said nothing (but people knew). After work one night, all the staff went to see some sort of show at the local gymnasium building. The Assistant sits next to me, sitting Indian style, showing off the large hole in the crotch of her pantyhose. Sadly the show was for me, but I really wanted no part of her rabid squirrel trapped in nylon.

After the show, she said it was late & she ‘really needed someone to walk her home so she’d be safe’. :dubious: My boss said I should do it, so reluctantly I did. I swear to Og, at her door, she tried to drag me by the arm into her apartment!!! I said no, that’s not right and I’m not interested and managed to pull out of her grasp…after which she slammed her door shut as hard as she could. Me, I just got out of Dodge and headed home.

My boss resigned a few months later, Assistant took her place, and she fired me that day (a semi-big deal for a poor student carrying 16 credits). I always think of that incident whenever any ‘sexual harassment’ sensitivity training comes around. :mad:

14

Knee? I’d be aiming about one femur’s length higher than the knee. Jeez.

15

Two men once tried to pick me up while I was sitting on the sidewalk on Granville St. in downtown Vancouver, waiting for a date to show up.

It skeeved me out for a couple of reasons. Come on, two middle-aged men? It was made worse because the way the conversation went it became clear that they thought I was a) underage (I have always looked younger than my years,) and b) impoverished/troubled/vulnerable. “Come back to our place, we’ll give you a hot meal and some wine.”

Eww.

16

I was in college, theater program, freshman year. There was a guy there in the first year of his MFA program, probably in his mid-50s. I was a wet-behind-the-ears 18. He was a really nice guy and we used to talk frequently. I kind of got the impression he was hitting on me, but he was never overt about it, just showed a great deal of interest. I occasionally managed to work in references to my girlfriend, just so there’d be no question in his mind about my level of interest. I enjoyed talking to him because he was a very engaging conversationalist, and for the first time in my life I was happy to be able to relate on an adult level to someone older than my parents.

One night, he asked me if I wanted to come over to his apartment- I can’t remember the reason, but he was slick enough to somehow convince me that his intentions were perfectly platonic. I agreed. We talked for a couple hours over beers, and at one point my Spidey senses started tingling that things were about to take a drastic turn in a direction I wasn’t interested in going. I rambled out some excuse about needing to get home, and he asked me for a hug. I went in for the man hug- handshake and a couple pats on the back with the left hand- and instead was embraced in a very firm, loving snuggle. It went on about five seconds longer than it should have. I thanked him for the beer and left.

I went straight to my girlfriend’s apartment, described the evening, and she spent the rest of the night reaffirming my hetersexuality.

I stayed friends with the guy until his MFA program ended, but I evidently got my point across with him that night- everything was cool thereafter.

17

Strikes to the groin can have impressive results on someone who hasn’t experienced it before, but are obvious and easy to block, and aren’t always effective in any case. Strikes to the shin or knee, on the other hand, leave definite marks (good for later identification when the police haul the lousy bastard in) and can have more effectiveness on slowing or stopping an attacker.

Stranger

18

Being a guy, I don’t get hit on that much (its not just me right?), but I did have an awkward experience at a party a couple of months ago. Generally, you don’t want to have the host’s girlfriend with her arm around you and on your backside.
I have to go…stand…over…there…now.

For safety, always have the safety catch on when sucking on your gun.

19

I’m playing pool at a bar with my husband, leaning over the table, about to break. Hubby’s on the other side of the table – which was stupid of him, because half the time I’d bounce the cue ball right off the table and into his groin.

I’m leaning over the table and hubby says “Are you ready?”. Guess I was taking too long. Anyway, this guy’s standing behind me and he says in a low voice, “Oh, I’ll bet you’re always ready. Are you ready for me?” And then he moves forward until his crotch is touching my butt. :mad:

I’m thinking “That’s my husband over there, you idiot!” But not wanting to see blood that night, I just went ahead with the break and made sure the end of my stick caught him in the gut.

Gross!

20

I don’t get hit on much either, but back when I was at university, I was crossing the crowded video arcade when someone groped me from behind. I never saw who did it, and I didn’t stop.

Seriously, from the stories in this thread, I have to wonder what’s with some of these people. I’m willing to believe that there are many cases of unfortunate miscommunication, either because of difficulty in reading signals, or simple unnkowledge. But even accounting for that, there must be a significant sector of the population that simply sees others as objects.