December 2002

December 28, 2002

He was hitting on me

This middle-aged guy crosses the street and comes up to me. He is obviously drunk, but his demeanor is gentle and quiet rather than slobbering and clumsy, so I don't feel wary or repulsed as he approaches. Only he comes too close, crossing the invisible boundary of my personal space. This is my first sign that something out of ordinary was happening. Read more

Ilya