SF Pride, Part Five: Becoming Empowered

Before I start on this final installment and go back to regular blogging, I feel it’s important for me to share this article with you. See, many women in the United States are facing jail time for having miscarriages, including a fifteen year old girl who could be in for a life sentence. This seriously worries me. I absolutely don’t like where women’s politics are going in this country of mine.

Ok, onto the final and coolest part of my trip to Pride. There were other great parts I wanted to talk about, including the friend I made coming home and my hilarious story of public urination, but I decided they weren’t really appropriate for this blog. Heck, I’ve been awkward enough sharing personal stories with y’all.

It was like really late. Like 3am late. It looked like we were going to go to the car and go the fuck home. I was like fuck yeah. My feet fucking hurt. All the alcohol is fucking gone. These drunk bitches are still fucking drunk. I want to get the fuck to Santa Cruz, god dammit.

All of a sudden, the plan is changed. Some guy, I forget his name so we’re gonna call him DB, is talking to Kay and Tina about some club that’s open until six am. It’s at Octavia and Gulf. Kay and Tina are like fucking yay we get to keep partying. I’m like fucking nay I don’t wanna keep partying … ah, still don’t have a phone, still don’t get an opinion.

We try to wave down three taxis, before a guy in a car is just like “hey, you can ride with me, taxis suck around this time.”

Kay sits in the front. DB sits in the back between Tina and myself.

Almost immediately, shit gets weird. I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I look, DB has unzipped his pants and has his hand through the fly.

Ugh, I think to myself, hopefully the club is close and we don’t have to deal with this long.

I see more ruckus out of the corner of my eye, to see 1) DB grabbing at Tina’s hand and even her hair and 2) his penis completely out being touched.

Oh great, I think to myself. I go through the thought process really fast: I don’t want to deal with this. But wait, I just read this book on rape. Girls never want to deal with it. Culture teaches them to be nice to men. And you want to be nice to this guy why? I mean, yeah, Tina’s been driving you crazy all night, but she’s barely 18. Where ever this is going, she doesn’t deserve that. So, Woman Up, and as Robin Warshaw advised, take the seduction out of the situation.

“Excuse me stranger,” I announce loudly to the silent car, “if you could put your dick back in your pants, I would seriously appreciate that.”

Obviously, the air in the car changes. This is common knowledge amongst the five of us. I see fidgeting as he puts his penis away.

A few moments later, the driver says “you said Octavia and Gulf? I’m confident those streets don’t intersect, in fact, I’m pretty sure they’re wholly parallel.”

Kay starts getting mad, “what the fuck man? You said this place was a good club, so where is it? You said it was called Rebel.”

“I have a theory,” I said, “that this guy is just some creep who wanted to get driven around town while he shows his dick to some strange girls.”

“Hey, that’s some crap, man, I’m attractive, I’m successful, I don’t need to do shit like that.”

“If that’s the case, then why the fuck are you?”

“Hey Stefani, just because you’re not down doesn’t mean…” He said more, but the use of my name made me so mad I couldn’t take his words in. At this point, Kay finally gets what’s up and starts giving directions to her car.

Again, the groping starts on Tina, and again I hear her (for the night, uncharacteristic) murmurs of “please, stop, I’m not going to suck your dick…”

“Okay,” I get loud, “you’re going to stop molesting my friend.”

“Bitch, whatever, my dick’s in my pants.”

“Well, she’s talking like you’re not behaving. So here’s what’s up. I’m gonna count to ten. If at ten, your dick isn’t in your pants and your hands aren’t in your pockets, I’m gonna start throwing punches.”

The driver pulls over the car first chance he gets. “I’m not dealing with this tonight, I’m not driving you any further.”

Tina starts yelling at DB to pay the driver, as he calls us a bunch of “crazy sluts” and walks away. I ended up paying the guy fifteen bucks to get us nowhere near Kay’s car. Fortunately we got a taxi and were home within two hours.

I have to say though … this was absolutely the most bad-ass experience of my life. I took control of this situation that could have gone so very bad, so very fast, and (hopefully) left this douchebag not feeling very good about himself in the end. I got a young girl out of a situation she wasn’t equipped to handle herself. I realized, in that moment, even though I’ve never fought in my life, that if I needed to throw my seat belt off and keep that guy from touching my friend (or, as I had planned, keeping him from breeding creepy douchebag babies in his future), I absolutely could have.

Of all the fights that went down that night, I had the one actually worth having.

I’ve walked a little taller since.

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~ by Stefani Vonne on 07/06/2011.

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