I have had breakdowns countless times. Holding feverish babies on the roadside in Ghana, trying not to cry. Or on the autostrada in the Dolomites: a flicker on the dashboard and then blackness in the night. In fact I am always grateful when my car decides to start. It's a miracle! My son says I am cursed. If we lived in an age where women were branded witches, I would be The Car Witch.
The other day my good friend couldn't find his jumper leads so a bloke I know offered to pull out his portable battery and kickstart my car. Wonderful! Having grown up in a household of extremely practical men I've never had qualms about handing over the baton and letting them do what I know so little about. Go guys, I'm grateful.
So we hike off over the snow in the dark to the car park where my vehicle sits like a forlorn washing machine. He attaches the battery clamps and the engine rolls over. Brilliant! My life can pick up again and I don't have to drag our gear down the hill. Only when I give him a big thrilled hug by the tinny Fiat Panda, his hand travels south and squeezes my ski-tightened butt.
Whaat?
I was too stunned to react. It was nothing, but it was still something. And for goodness sake's what a silly way to come onto a woman. Anybody remember Benny Hill and all those pillow-chested nurses?
But later, it went deeper. I began to think about other times I've been shocked to have hands roving over me. Don't get me wrong - I love men, I love bodies entwined and sizzling skin and the powerful act of sex - but there is a type of invasion going on here.
I'm sure some of it had to do with what happened in India last week. The outrage. The incomprehension. That a woman could be abused so brutally and tossed into the street. A vibrant, hopeful woman with plans. Giggly, soft, striving. I guess I was already on Outrage Alert.
As this story came to light I'm sure every woman the world over felt a clench, a pang of fear, before the outrage set in. Why did this thing (and all the hidden cases of rape in Congo, the Sudan, Rwanda) have to happen? What is it that made these men think that they could even contemplate this act? And what of the women who raised them, their sisters, aunts and mothers?
To think that a woman raised each one of these men is truly shocking. I wonder what punishment they would choose for these beasts.
So, I've just had an argument with my husband about this because he seems to think that the hug was in some way a request for further gropings and in further trying to justify this it amounts to a "she made him do it" excuse - men are victims to witches, you see - which has really just made me despair. Oh, and now he;s left the room.
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year, Cat x
Oh please don't argue over a silly blog post! I'm sure it was an old-school invite for more groping and yes I was pretty excited about having wheels again - just the wheels though! Sometimes I wish I could be more bitchy in these situations and just cut it short.
DeleteIt's an age-old one though, isn't it? The witch, the wheels, she must be begging for it...
It's totally outrageous ... all I can say, in future, just shake his hand! It's sad that we women can't be the spontaneious beings we'd like to be but we can't. Every time we let it go we are sending a subtle message that it's OK but then sometimes it's not easy not to let it go, is it, particularly when he'd just done you a favour and it was *just* a squeeze!
DeleteYes I think I'll be acting like a school marm all week. Anything not to have another wandering hand experience. I'm still wondering, Was it Me? Was it Me?
DeleteAnd yet I've had car rescues more than a dozen times without this happening!
I remember a time when I had just gotten married and was out to my husband's company's Holiday party. A co-worker (also young and just married) goosed me. I was as shocked as you. I immediately told my husband. I think he was secretly excited that someone besides himself thought his woman was hot.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of immoral men I think of their mothers, too. What must they be like?
I heard today the 5 men accused of the crime in India are on trial this morning. Did you know one is a juvenile? It is all so disturbing.
By the way, I bow to you. I have never had a car break down. In part, because I've only owned one (my now) vehicle. I know it will happen one day and I sure as hell 'aint looking forward to it. Thank god all my kids are no longer babies.
Gosh MSB you've just made me remember once it happened at my end-of-high-school dance - one of my friend's fathers! Ewww!
DeleteYes I read a little about the perpetrators. It's almost too awful to think about. Just jarring.
Oh the cars! If you knew how many times I've been standing on the side of the road... Probably enough times to cover the pair of us so don't waste energy worrying!
"Too stunned to react" Been there, Cat. And yes, what is it with these guys?
ReplyDeleteAnd then the thing is that you go back and look at your behaviour, wondering if maybe you did bring it on, maybe it was your fault? Why are we trained to function like this? So stunned, and programmed badly.
DeleteYikes. A hug for an acquaintance who helped you out of a fix does not equal an ass grab invitation.
ReplyDeleteI too have been at the mercy of the kindness of strangers during car breakdowns. In at least five separate situations, men have stopped to help and were extremely kind and respectful about it. I always felt lucky when this happened, but really I shouldn't -- helping someone should never be tied to an ass grab. (Quick, someone make a t-shirt.)
Yes I've also had respectful help in the past too. I've also had a car of Italian policemen take a peek inside the car (two cranky youngsters on the side of a Sunday highway) and drive off!
DeleteI might pack one of those T-shirts in my car.
A know a couple of Neanderthals who would explain that a guy is unmotivated by human kindness, but endlessly motivated by the hope or expectation of female gratitude. Battery jump = ass groping, a simple equation. Now, I don't believe this to be true because my own guy is the type to help an old lady across a busy street, but clearly some men do parse it out this way.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine being the mother of one of those Indian men. So much worse than having him die would be having him take part in the murder of that innocent girl.
I'm still puzzled by the whole thing, and hoping I don't have another car breakdown anytime soon.
DeleteAnd this story, this poor girl. I still cannot believe a thing like this could happen.
It's astounding how often men say and do things that are intrusive/offensive/over-the-line, and never once think a thing about it.
ReplyDeleteI used to work at a big financial services company in New York. Those guys were the worst. And no, we women would have never considered filing a sexual harassment suit. We could have just kissed our careers goodbye. Because who were the worst offenders? Human Resources Executives!
Fucking men.
Human Resources Executives! That just takes the cake!
DeleteOne of my new housemates and I spent this afternoon discussing the way that women automatically have to perceive and act in this world in a fundamentally different way to men, in ways that aren't even that conscious. Thoughts like "is this street well-lit? Can I walk to public transport after dinner or do I need to pay for a cab? Could I run in these heels?" before we even step out the door, thoughts that men, as a rule, would never even conceptualise needing to consider in their day-to-day lives.
ReplyDeleteF*ck that man who grabbed your ass. How dare he.
Oh thanks Hannah and these are very true thoughts. What about that poor woman in Melbourne last year? Just atrocious. And so very scary. The idea that we may be so terribly vulnerable in a situation of physical strength.
DeleteI actually told her about that, and it freaked her out. I think that story, in particularly, messes so much with our preconceived notions of where we should be "safe", even though the attacker, of course, had no idea how close she was to home. Just terrible.
DeleteI don't really know the details except that it seemed so random, so vicious and so unfair. So final.
Delete