rape

Kinda makes you think….

Riddled across Swedish social media, I couldn’t help but weigh in on this delicate issue of sexism. Why would a woman run from a man, who seemingly was not in any way alarming, while walking in a forest? The obvious conclusion that one jumps to is fear of rape, but really given the statistics for male vs. female assault (whether sexual or otherwise) gives room for doubt that a fear is statistically valid.

While it’s anyones right at any time to feel fear for such a situation, it’s not realistic in my opinion, and it’s actually quite sexist against men to think that. The feminist train has been boarded by millions of people, myself included, but when it turns into something that potentially affect me due to me just being a man, I start to reflect on it a little bit.

I’m as threatening as a butterfly, and would I be offended if a woman ran away from me in the same way? Of course I would be offended. It’s blind assumption that I’m a bad person, and in the same way that woman have demanded equality and to be treated respectfully, how is it respectful that a woman treats a man in this way? It’s sad that minds wander to rape-mongering, but it’s a valid debate that needs to be had. The sad result will be that anything that goes against the feminist movement would be viewed as misogynous.

What’s ironic about the situation is that, if anything, I’d be considered slightly on the misandrist side and defending the male gender like I’m doing feels unnatural.

Despite all of this the first reaction that I felt when I read the reaction is: how do I feel in this situation? Every day I walk out of my door and wonder if it will be another day when I’m assaulted. Knowing that my existence is a bit “outside the box” compared to most, means that I live in constant alertness for possibilities of onslaught of negative attention.

So internet trolls beware, it’s not just women that fear persecution or for their safety!

The restaurant that we found was entitled “Le Tajine” and can be found in the 11è arrondissement. As the name suggests, it’s a Moroccan restaurant that serves, as a specialty, Tajines. I decided to try it and it was delicious, even though the waiter was old and refused to bring us water after three times ordering. Apparently it’s against the law to not serve water, so I was getting ready to quote some outlandish sentence to claim that we have a constitutional right to having water, blah blah blah.

The food came all steamy and in this amazing ceramic plate which was taken off and my chicken, which was sautéed in green olives and lemon, was still bubbling and far too hot to to eat. We enjoyed each other’s company. The couple in the corner were speaking English since she was French and he was German. She was trashed by desert time, after their third bottle of wine, and we made a bet that she’d get laid by her German boyfriend 10 minutes from getting home. The other couple next to us kept going outside to smoke, like every 5 minutes, and then they go into some philosophical debate with the owner’s family about the treatment of men. This was incited because the girl jokingly hit the guy on the head cause he said something rude. Justified yes, but then the old waiter freaked out and said that one must respect men and blah blah blah. Quite the over-masculine culture, clearly. Go feminism! 

We shared a desert, which incited suspicious looks from the infamous waiter. I basically gave him the evil eye and continued to share the sorbet, as we were much too full to have our own. I paid and we exited after being attacked with some sort of cleaner on our hands made of oil. Thank God the couple in the corner left first or we would never have known to hold our hands out of the lady that came out with the “tea” trolly. We went out, and so our next adventure began. We wanted alcohol, and to put it into really simple terms, we wanted to get drunk, fast.

We found a little corner store around the corner, slaved over our wine choice, then discovered that neither of us have a bottle opener and decided to thus go with champagne. Good choice, and some chocolate waffle thingies. We paid up and went out, turned the corner and then the drama happened. We were just minding our own business, and these two guys on the corner with a dog asked me the following, the entirety of the conversation can be found below, Translated.

Man: Do you have 0.30€ please?
Osky: No sorry, I haven’t any change.
[200m advance]
Man: Wow, what a fuckin’ tight ass, yeah!
Markus: What’d he say?
Osky: You don’t wanna know!
[300m advance]
Man: So are you the girl?
Osky: Fuck off.
Markus: What’s he saying?
[500m advance, we hear something, turn and see the man running after us with the dog coming also]
[man grabs onto my hips and grinds himself into me]
Man: Oh yeah baby, you like that don’t you?
Osky: Get off me, fuck off.
[man comes in front of me, with the dog jumping on me, grabs my hips again and starts to feel me up]
Man: Oh shit, look at your eyes, they are so beautiful, you know I love guys, and I know you want me to just turn you around and let me fuck you up your tight hole!
Osky: Get the fuck off me.
[Osky pushes guy away and he goes to Markus who quickly pushes him]
[Man comes back to me, grabs my hips, takes one hand and gropes me, and the other on my ass]
[Osky decides to grab the guy’s shoulders, kick him in the nuts, hard, and push him into the middle of the street]
Osky: Dégage!!
[Exit Osky & Markus, left alleyway to the hotel]

Upon returning to the safety of the hotel, Markus asked me what the hell happened. I recounted what was going on, and he told me “Wow I never believed you when you said you were afraid of getting raped and get hit on by creeps, but now I know you’re being serious.” This is the second time that someone has said that they didn’t believe me, witnessed me being treated like shit, and then apologised for doubting me. Listen to me people, I’m dead serious!

In order to celebrate my victory, and possibly the death by oncoming traffic of the guy and his dog, we got drunk fast looking at scandalous pictures from Markus’ trip. We went to sleep in a daze, woke up and got our shit together to get to the train station and seem me off. It was a lovely day, I got some photos for my administrative stuff, and then we had our goodbyes. As always the train station was packed and travelers were in a panic from the strikes. Homeless people, beggars, and musicians in the metro are in full force Monday’s, for all those who didn’t know! 

I got back home and fell asleep as I was tired, cold, and wanted to curl up and die. So what is the message from this trip? The recap is as follows:

1. Osky hates Paris
2. Osky, however, likes the shopping in Paris
3. Osky finally saw the Louvre
4. Osky spent the weekend with Markus
5. Osky hates the negative attention he gets
6. Osky is still afraid of being raped
7. Osky needs to stop getting hit on for no reason by creeps
8. Osky can do no better than homeless people, drunkards, or dodgy characters
9. Osky needs a taser

I’m glad that we all agree…