What is the correct reaction to a creepy man?

On a strange encounter in Paris

Let me paint a picture for you. 

It’s seven o’clock on a warm and sunny Tuesday morning. You’re a female, with a female friend, waiting for a bus on a quiet median strip in Paris.

You’re both very tired after a weekend rampaging around Amsterdam, for an impromptu reunion with friends who came into watch your comedy shows. Your train from Amsterdam to Paris was super delayed so you missed the connecting train to your friend’s home. You spent the night in a weird hotel room that could only fit one person with a suitcase in the lift. On the plus side, the good night’s sleep did help you to conclude that the endless hangover you accepted as fair punishment does appear to be COVID.

In short - you’re hungover, you’re sick, you want to get this bus to to the train to the destination you were to arrive at yesterday. You’re in no mood for fools, you cannot suffer even one.

A few metres away, there’s a man peeing against a building in broad daylight. He’s the only other person in the street and he’s swaying from side to side to a rhythm that only he hears. They say dance like no one’s watching, but I’m quite sure no urinating is supposed to be involved.

He finishes his wall offering to Jackson Pollock and turns around. Your peripheral vision sees him clock you and your friend, and slowly sway his way over. You suspect the rhythm is comprised of drugs or alcohol or a potent mixture of both.

This was exactly what the wall looked like when Pee Man was done with it

Pee Man’s getting closer. He’s not a large man but he’s taller than you and his biggest problem - at this moment in time - appears to be gravity. You reckon it won’t be too long before it gets him.

He starts muttering things at you. He says, I’m black and I’m proud and I’m Tupac and I’ll fuck you up - but you and your friend keep your eyes locked on each other. You don’t hit your thirties without becoming absolute pros at averting eye contact during awkward encounters.

Pee Man’s getting closer so you slowly move away, as far as you can without moving off the median strip and onto the road.

But he follows you, now he’s next to you, now he’s in your comfort zone. His face is a school ruler’s distance away and there’s nowhere for you to move. His unseeing eyes lock on yours and he say, I’m black like you’re black and I’ll kiss your ass and I’ll fuck you.

This is such a massive bummer, you just want to get on this fucking bus. You don’t want to engage but you don’t want things to get worse but you also don’t want to get punched in the head. You must be polite in this situation because the last thing you want to do is make an erratic person angry.

You say, excuse me, could you please stop, we’re just here to get the bus.

He gets angry. His eyes lock on your friend and he says, you have nice eyes, but you’re fucking white, fuck you.

What is the correct thing to do in this situation? This moment has done multiple rounds in my brain. I didn’t know what the correct thing to do was when it happened a couple of days ago, I still don’t know now.

Here’s what happened next.

My friend and I walked in the direction he came from, away from the bus stop. We crossed the bike path, got onto the sidewalk and waited behind the bus stop. He stood still for some time, ruminating on the exhausting morning spent battling gravity to remain standing.

We watched him from behind the bus stop just thinking, come ON bus.

Pee Man got a second wind - look it was likely his hundredth wind that morning - then swayed over to us again. There was nowhere to go, no other bus stop in sight and we really could not afford to miss the bus.

He came to where we were standing and many more things were said. We walked back across the bike path to get to the bus stop and nearly got hit by a bike. We didn’t see the bike coming because we were distracted by the man.

The lycra bandit on his early morning bike ride screeched to a halt and let off some rapid French, definitely fuelled by the protein shake he downed that morning.

My friend let off more French in response. I don’t speak much French but I know what WE ARE BEING HASSLED BY THIS MAN, sounds like in any language.

Lycra Bandit shrugs. He’s in a rush and clearly ruffled about how he’s going to explain this interruption on his Strava. By this time, Pee Man has sidled up to all of us. He tries to show the Lycra Bandit his dick.

Pee Man moves like he’s underwater so we all know what he’s going to do before he can do it. Lycra Bandit yells HEY, and shoves Pee Man away. Pee Man gives a yelp because he knows this is all his foe gravity needs to best him. He falls to the asphalt.

A man runs over with a book in his hand and asks what’s going on. My friend explains the situation and spots a pod of policemen about a hundred metres away. I remember the news reporting that every policeman and gendarme in France is currently trawling the streets of Paris for the Olympics.

Spectacular time to commit crimes elsewhere in France. Everyone must have had a field day when all the kings horses and all the kings men were trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

One king’s man: is this the best use of like - ALL our time?

My friend starts yelling for the police and waving them over. I realise I’ve never yelled for the police. Not because I’ve not felt threatened before, but because it didn’t occur to me to look to them for help. As a migrant, all you want to do is keep your head down and not get deported. I look at Pee Man on the ground and feel worried for what they may do to him.

All eight policemen start walking towards us in unison, intimidating as a group in matching uniforms with eyes hidden behind their sunglasses.

Lycra Bandit says, good the police are coming, and speeds off.

Book Man helps Pee Man off the asphalt, and slowly leads him away from us, chatting to him quietly. He directs his attention to some graffiti art on the side of the building. I don’t know what Book Man said but Pee Man was suddenly entranced by the art.

The policemen draw closer and ask, what did he do? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?

My friend explains no, we’re not harmed, but we’re being harassed and we can’t leave, we’re waiting for this bus.

The police shrug for if there’s not physical assault, there’s nothing they can do. They all walk away. The youngest of them helpfully yells out to the man (translated from French), hey you piece of shit homeless man, go die in another street.

My friend and I look at each other in surprise. Eleven men involved in this situation, eight sworn to serve and protect - one useful man with the book, who walked on after diffusing the situation.

I keep thinking - what is the correct way to handle this situation? This is the most recent of so many situations I can point to, where I did not feel safe and didn’t know what to do. I’ve gone through the options:

a. Miss the bus, walk very far away from Pee Man

b. Push Pee Man away, knowing this will definitely escalate the situation

c. Call for help, hope help comes and doesn’t make things worse

None of them are ideal, we got lucky with the third option thanks to Book Man. I’m not sure the police could have been more unhelpful.

I think of the daily interactions that happen short of a crime, everywhere around the world. Uncomfortable every day situations, on the cusp of escalation - that you don’t want to tip over but also can’t ignore. How are we supposed to navigate difficult situations that arise because of stark variations in mental health and substance abuse and access to assistance? What is the correct thing to do?

It’s gone round and round in my head and I still don’t have an answer. I guess next time, I’ll just leg it to the train station.

Big hugs,

Sashi