Somone Walking Down the Sidewalk, by iirraa, from flickr
And there was this woman in front of me. Sorta short and probably middle-aged. Suddenly she starts doing this little hobble thing to pick up speed. Anyone who knows me personally knows that I walk aggressively quickly, so I was probably trying to pass her at the time. She tries not to let on, but she’s kind of looking every time we pass a set of windows so she can see how close I am without looking over her shoulders. She’s obviously straining herself to put this awkward little hop in her step so that she can stay in front of me. It’s in a less-than-busy area, but nonetheless we’re passing a couple storefronts per block, and I notice one or two other pedestrians.
At first, I’m sad. I want to say, “relax, lady, I’m not going to hurt you.” But I worry that’ll just scare her more. Or she’ll whip out her pepper spray on me. Literally, I’m afraid that if I address her, she’ll either scream, sprint off, or start putting her free trial self-defense lesson to work.
Then I start getting annoyed. At this point, I’ve slowed my pace just a tiny bit, she’s still struggling, and every time i speed up she speeds up too. I try going further to either of the sidewalk, but she keeps nervously hobbling along and making sure to stay in front of me. I’m offended that she’s read me as a threat. How could I possibly have looked threatening, with my stonewash skinny jeans and bright purple american apparel hoodie (hood down, mind you). I’m incredibly skinny, and kind of pimpley. I was carrying a burger, eating as I walked. Perhaps it was my mohawk (well, more of a “dirty hawk”)? Or just my quick pace? Maybe she’s just had a bad experience, perhaps involving someone who looked something like me? Certainly the fact that I’m male had something to do with it.
Either way, I’m pissed off that this lady has obviously passed some sort of judgement on me, and I really don’t feel like slowing down (again, if you know me personally, you’ve probably noticed this). I still kind of feel bad that she’s scared, and she’s obviously having trouble keeping up the pace, but at the same time, part of me is saying “That’s what you get for accusing me of being a predator. Not my problem you’re being paranoid and judgmental.”
Eventually, she takes a sharp turn to go inside some little liquor store or something.
I’m still not sure what to make of this. I’m still kind of angry at her, but I also feel bad that I scared her. I make a point of not flaunting my masculinity and I try to subvert my male privilege, yet this still happened. Welcome to the city?
