When I was fifteen, I was working in the drive-thru at a fast food chain. I was handing this man his change when he grabbed my wrist and tried to yank me out of the window.

I pulled back really hard and slammed the window on his hand. He sped off without his food.

My panic attack was so bad that my manager begrudgingly sent me home. I quit two days later.

I work at a video game store. We had a teenage boy who would come in and hang around for thirty minutes to an hour, staring at me until I acknowledged him. When I did, he would pitch me his entire Assassin’s Creed spinoff trilogy.

At first, I tried to rationalize it away; he was probably neurodivergent and excited about Assassin’s Creed but perhaps lacking in social skills. However, if I told him I had to pause on listening to him — he would talk for over thirty minutes, and I had a job to do — I could feel his eyes boring into me. The second I looked at him again, he’d move closer and talk louder. Sometimes he’d stare me down in total silence while I was facing the opposite wall.

My district manager wouldn’t let me kick him out, so whenever another manager was working with me, they’d pretend the store needed something from the dollar store and send me over there. The first time, he waited a full hour inside of [Video Game Store] for me to come back, so after that, I had to stay in the dollar store until one of them texted me that he was gone.

The last time I ever saw him, he followed me around demanding my phone number or email address.

And the worst part is, I know other women at the company had it much worse. There was an unofficially blacklisted customer at another store who didn’t get any phone calls about preorders or anything because he would sit in his car and attempt to follow the store manager home after memorizing which car was hers.

I worked at a department store on the second floor. In most stores in this chain, this is the women’s floor. I worked full-time and took part-time classes. I was always working.

A particular sixty-year-old dude took my customer service friendliness as “flirting” and did not stop bothering me. He would come to my department almost every day. Coworkers said he’d be looking for me. He was so creepy. He kept giving me his phone number; I would fake smile and slip it in the trash.

I told him I had a boyfriend, though I didn’t, but he didn’t care. He wanted to take me out to lunch, discuss my future, etc. I kept telling him I wasn’t interested. He was always buying small things like a belt, tie, or shirt, and then coming to return them the next day, so it’s not like he was helping my sales goals, either.

I told my manager about it, and she told me to call her when I saw him. It’s a big store, though, so by the time she would get there, he would be gone.

One time, I was closing up three departments thanks to callouts and this dude showed up. I just wanted to hurry up and go through with the transaction. I was in such a rush that I forgot to take the sensor off his shirt. He came back.

Man: “You forgot to take this off.”

Me: “Oh, sorry.”

As I was reaching to take the sensor off, he slapped my hand and smiled this creepy-a** grin.

Man: “Naughty girl!”

I was horrified. I went to security.

Me: “Please get rid of that guy. I’m afraid to drive home! I don’t know if this loser is going to follow me.”

So, one day, I was at my register, and I saw him strolling up. I called security and darted to hide. He went up to my coworker and asked where I was; she said I’d be right back. Instead, security showed up and led him away.

Thankfully, I never saw him again. THANK YOU, SECURITY TEAM!

I’m on a train going to work. At the next station, two people join me in the four-seater: a beautiful young twenty-something woman and a guy around forty or so. She sits next to me, takes off her coat, and dives into a book.

The minute she has her coat off, the guy actually LEANS FORWARD to stare at her breasts. I frown at him. The woman looks up and frowns too. The creepy guy keeps staring. The woman sighs, puts a bookmark in her book, sets it on the table, and SNAPS her fingers in the guy’s face!

Woman: *Very fast, without stuttering once* “Look into my eyes, look into my eyes! The eyes, the eyes, not around the eyes, look into my eyes… Three, two, one…” *Snaps her fingers again* “You’re under. You will not, I repeat not look at my chest again. Boobs do not concern you. You no longer care about boobs! Three, two, one.” *Snaps her fingers again* “You’re back in the room.” 

She then continues to read as if nothing happened. The guy splutters in utter disbelief. He has no idea what’s going on and, being in the Netherlands, probably didn’t even understand her. He tries to get some support out of me

Creepy Guy: *In Dutch* “Can you believe this stupid chick? I didn’t do anything wrong! If anything, I was complimenting her!”

Me: “Computer says no.” 

Because of the ongoing health crisis, I left out the signature cough. The guy got up to sit somewhere else and the woman and I had a nice conversation about our shared Little Britain interest. She was actually Dutch, as well!

I’m walking to work one morning. A guy driving past calls out:

Guy: “Hey, pretty lady!”

I smile and nod, but nothing more. It’s standard catcalling, except…

He proceeds to follow me for ten solid blocks, continuing to call out to me despite my ignoring him, asking for my name, phone number, etc. It doesn’t take long for me to get annoyed, and by the time he demands to know, “Why are you being so antisocial?”, I’m beginning to get frightened. Luckily, by this point, I’ve arrived at work and managed to evade him.

I don’t think about it until a few days later when it happens again. 

This time, he follows me as I’m walking home, again heedless of the fact that I’m ignoring him and that he’s holding up traffic. All I can do is keep my head down and walk as fast as possible, hoping he’ll finally take a hint and leave me alone and/or that I can get home safely.

Suddenly, I hear a car door slam and I look up to see that he’s pulled over, has gotten out of the car, and is coming toward me.

Thoroughly frightened and completely fed up, I scream as loudly as I can:

Me: “Leave me alone! You’re scaring me!”

He has the nerve to look completely shocked.

Guy: *As if I’m overreacting* “You don’t have to be scared!”

It’s been six months, and while he hasn’t bothered me since, I still jump every time I see a white SUV, wondering if he’s lurking around and waiting to strike.