or this:
or maybe even this:
But, I have a very different experience of Italian men.
In the past week and a half, I have had FOUR incidences of some sort of serious sexual harassment.
1) I take a bus up to Citta Alta three times a week for my Italian lesson. I was sitting in a seat against the window when a 60 year old man (obviously unsure of his age, not the first question on my mind at the time) extended his arms to the bars on either side of me, so I couldn't exit. I had my earphones in, and ignored him, hoping he would just give up and go away. When I arrived at my stop, I attempted to get up, having to elbow him out my way, and he proceeded to block the door of the bus so I had to touch him again to get off. He, obviously with no previous intention, gets off at my stop and follows me, even at my quickened pace, under a tunnel that ends in a public piazza. I stopped dead in my tracks hoping he would just overtake me and leave me alone. Alas, he didn't. He stopped right next to me and passed some repulsive comment while I shouted, "LASCIAMI IN PACE!" (Leave me alone) so everyone in the piazza turned their heads and watched as he walked away from me with his sleazy tail between his legs.
2) I take the train regularly, to and from school, and most weekends when I go to Milan or Lecco. There is an unsaid train etiquette when it comes to seats that everybody is aware of. In each 'booth', there are 4 seats - 2 x 2 that face each other on each side of the train. You always opt to sit diagonally opposite to someone, rather than directly next to, or directly opposite - there is more space, there's no awkward "Where do I put my legs" problem, and there's no need for eye-contact. If there are free seats available in another booth, you take them.
I was on a train to Milan on Friday, and I took my place diagonally opposite a sweet-looking old man, and I was sitting on the aisle. Next to me (on the other side of the train, but maybe a metre away) sat a 30-ish year old man also sitting on the aisle, with NOBODY else sitting in his booth. I noticed him looking at me, even when I accidentally made eye-contact with him, he continued staring at me like I was a piece of meat. I ignored him, and looked out the window on my other side hoping he would just give up. He got out of his seat, and came to sit directly opposite me. He continued staring, more intently now, up and down my body. It was when he licked his lips that I uncrossed my legs in an attempt to get up and move away from him, that he opened his legs wide and stared at his crotch. I bolted for another set of seats so he couldn't see me anymore, and he MOVED so he could see me in the hole between the headrests.
3) On the metro yesterday morning, a cross-eyed, presumably homeless, man stared me down as I got on the metro, passed a comment, which I ignored. I walked away, not being able to change carriages in the metro, and he leaned forward in his seat and carried on looking at me. Luckily I only had 1 more stop at this point, and ran out of there.
4) The most dramatic, by far the most traumatising, experience I have had. A girlfriend and I were walking back from the synagogue on Sunday at about noon, on our way to the Rabbi and Rebbetzin's home for Shavuot lunch. The Rebbetzin, her two nieces and two daughters, her mother, and a few other guests walked at a slower pace about 20 metres behind us. As Loren and I talked and walked, I noticed a middle-aged man sitting on his bicycle about 10 metres ahead. I saw him looking at me, so as we approached, I diverted my eyes to the floor to avoid the eye-contact, and as my eyes descended, I noticed that he was legitimately masturbating while looking at me. His entire...um...pene e palle, were out in the open, broad daylight in the middle of a street in Milan. And it stared me straight in the eye. #scarredforlife
I SCREAMED (in English), adrenaline pumping, "ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING?!" and the sick bastard cycled away.
5) (I know I said 4, but another one happened since I began writing this post.) I was waiting for my train that was in ritardo this afternoon, and a 30-something year old man approached me and sat next to me on the bench. He asked if he could show me around the town, asked repeatedly if he could see me again, and kept on touching my leg with his track-marked arm. I don't date 30-year old drug-users. Thanks for the offer anyway, bro. He finally left me alone after the Portughese lady on my other side started making conversation with me about my theoretical boyfriend, like we were besties. Life-saver.
Listen, don't get me wrong. It's flattering when a guy hoots his horn (and no, that is not an analogy. I mean literally hooting the horn of his car) at you, assuming he is within a 15 year age difference (eliminating the 4 year olds, in my case) and not vulgar about it.
In the meantime, I need to buy myself some mace.
Come at me, bros.
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