Yesterday I was having a nice meal with a beautiful woman when two drunk and high men came and joined our booth without asking. The alpha dog of the two smugly slurred his broken English, and within two minutes or less was asking if we were lesbians. My companion, who does not actually identify as a lesbian (though we were on a date), had never experienced anything like this, and I could feel her tension swell without turning my head. I was friendly with him, in spite of his being a malicious idiot. I told him in no uncertain terms that I wanted to continue to enjoy the rugby game with her. Alone. He audaciously offered with a smile that he and his friend were invading, and I smiled broadly back in agreement, but he made no move to leave. Thing 2 then got up and walked away from us, and we felt a brief moment of accomplishment for that until he returned with the beers they left at the bar. So far we made no progress, and not knowing what else to do, my date started to rise as if she would leave me there with them. I clamped my palm down on her thigh and shook my head and told her we would get rid of them together. They basically had us trapped in a circular booth anyhow. During all of this, I am somehow still cool as a cucumber and smiling at my soon to be losing chess opponent. I asked him to please excuse us. He smiled back at me, considering my request, and said flatly, "No." I repeated myself more sternly, and he shook his head. I asked a third time raising my voice just enough that a woman at the next table overheard and actually jabbed him in the back of his shoulder telling him to get lost. He still refused to go. At this point the entire front half of this enormous Irish pub is looking at our table as I ask him repeatedly to excuse us, and finally our waiter comes and plants himself by my side and tells the guys to get out of the booth. Presumably because this instruction came from another male, they ultimately relent, and the malignant asshats return to the bar. My date and I are left there in a state of shock and disbelief. We are relieved but still feel unsafe, and monitor his movement in the public space until we are sure he is gone.
This is my first time being publicly harassed as a visibly queer/butch woman in Europe, and the first time anywhere on earth for my date. She apologised profusely for attempting to leave me there. I told her that we were lucky; that if we had been in an isolated location, I might be telling this story to a lawyer. I feel guilty, because this would not have happened to her without me. I know it is not my fault, but these are the thoughts of a victim of an act of sexually charged bullying, and someone who has learned to cope with the fallout of being me and yet still wants to spare those around her from it.
In the aftermath, I am left to ponder his actions. He saw what he perceived to be two lesbians, and decided to "partake," pardon the expression. He would not listen to me, my date, or the woman behind him. This clearly demonstrates the theory that our society positions women as the property of men, to do with as they wish, and their behavior is only regulated by other men. What is the most disturbing to me now in hindsight is the way he looked at me, and that he felt so sure of his ability to predate us in the presence of literally hundreds of people. What do you do when you come across someone like that, except get as far away from them as possible? But what about the next pair of women he finds? Will they be so lucky?
Fuck. This is the work of the motherfucking patriarchy and experiences like this one only make me more determined than ever to see its total disassembly, piece by bloody piece.
