Today in New York is was about ninety degrees out. Like any other girl in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, on such a hot day, I was wearing short shorts on my way out to start the day. I would say this outfit isn’t any more revealing than any other girl’s outfit, but because I’m curvy I guess it just magically looks more lewd on me. I seldom let this fact sensor my sense of style though.

The first guy to harass me was dressed like a construction worker and just sat on a stoop, smoking a cigarette. He started making graphic and disgusting noises and motions at me and said something about my legs. I told him, “That’s disgusting. Keep it to yourself.”

Not even a full block later, a skinny crack head with no shirt begging for money stopped his charade completely in order to say some grotesque and graphic things about what he’d like to do to my body. Infuriated, I again told him, “You disgust me. Keep it to yourself!”

Well, as the platitude dictates, three is a charm: on my way back home, ice cream cone in hand, another man–in fact, he may have been the first man again–started making kissy noises at me while he was on the damn phone with one of his “homies” and told me to “watch out, baby,” which to me sounds like a threat. So I turned around and yelled, “Don’t you EVER sexually harass me or any other woman again, you pig! I can tell sexually harassing people like a CRIMINAL has gotten you real far in life, huh?!” I don’t even remember what else I yelled at him, and all he did was break eye contact and look really annoyed and embarrassed. I hope what I said stuck with him. He’s lucky–last time the third guy harassed me in such a short span of time, I creamed him in the face with a piece of vegan jerky. Damn, my aim is good.

- Kendalle Fiasco

Location: Brooklyn, New York, USA

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