Yesterday I wrote about how I discovered a man standing next to me had a cell phone camera on his shoe. Here’s what happened next…
“Your phone is on your shoe.”
Then after a few seconds, it hit me—he was taking pictures (or video) up my skirt.
“Is this why I’ve been bumping into your feet? You’re taking pictures up my dress?”
Creepy Perv: “It isn’t on or anything.”
I was literally gob smacked. It never occurred to me that out of all of the dangers that I have to look out for as a woman, that some strange man taking pictures up my dress was one of them.
I immediately started fishing for my phone in my purse. I wanted to get a picture of this asshole’s face.
He repeated himself: “The camera isn’t on.”
Me: *Still searching for my phone and giving him my best active bitch face.*
He knew either I was going to call the police or take a picture of him, so he grabbed the phone from his shoe, put it in one of those nylon drawstring backpacks and left the bus shelter.
Despite the fact I was standing around several people, they either had no idea what was going on—hell, it barely registered with me and it was happening to me—or I doubt that they would have been willing to help.
The best image I could get was this:
The man in the black shirt with the white stripes—yeah the one running away with his back to the camera—is the upskirter.
The best description I can give is a black man about 5’9-5’10 with a medium brown complexion and an athletic build. He wears his hair short and has facial hair. Trust me, I know that is a very vague description but my back was to him for most of the time so I really didn’t get time to study his face.
The things that stand out to me about him are his behaviors. When he first slid into the bus shelter, he pretended to kneel down and tie his laces. That’s when I believe he attached his phone to his shoe . Secondly, he carried that black nylon backpack.
There is no doubt in my mind that he knew what he was doing. He knew it was not only morally wrong and illegal but he was practiced at what he was doing.
From the time I realized I was being taped to the time he left the shelter was literally less than a minute. Captain Creepy moved quickly before he could be photographed or possibly detained.
I suspect he had been taping me for up to twenty minutes.
Then I started to get mad. Real mad.
Pissed at him. Pissed at the invasion of my privacy. Pissed that I couldn’t stand on a motherfucking street corner in the middle of my city in broad daylight without having to worry about some asshole taking pictures up my skirt. But most of all, I was pissed at myself.
I was pissed that I ignored one of my basic rules of personal safety.
I was pissed that I let my guard down.
I was pissed that all of the signs were there but I was too clueless/preoccupied to see them.
I was in a daze of anger and self loathing. How could I let this happen to me? Why wasn’t I paying attention? I know better, what is wrong with me?
My anger was reaching a boiling point.
The fact that another man standing nearby said that I should take the humiliation of upskirting as a complement didn’t do anything to improve my mood.
That’s the next part of the story.
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