The Infamous Compound Holla
I was living in Astoria, and I use the word 'living' --- Hold the phone. You won't believe this. As I was writing this Hollaback, a guy came into my office and sexually harrassed me. He asked me if I like to be flogged, and since it was hot in the office I should get naked. He asked me to cuss because cussing women turn him on. What a fucking creep. Problem is, since he doesn't work here, or work anywhere, there was nothing I could do. He's a member of the synagogue. I just tried to steer the conversation towards more neutral ground and towards business. And now I feel stupid because I didn't stand up for myself more. So, Hollaback, Shelly! I hope you get a papercut on your dick when your jacking off tonight to Hustler. Back to my original Hollaback... Read More! He's standing right across the street gawking at me through the front door. Anger grabs a hold of me. I step out the front door, and I point right at him. "YOU!" I say. He looks confused and looks around. I yell at the top of my lungs, "YES, YOU. STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME." The guy looks scared and walks away. Just then a Police car drives up. I tell them what happened and they agree to take me home. They just have to take care of a jumper on the roof. HIL-arious. So, they drive me home, and my Landlady gets a nice view of me coming home at midnight in the back of a police car, as they shine their search light full blast at the front door and say in a mega volume loudspeaker, "Can you find your keys?!?" Hollaback to you, asshole mutter-follower. And a special hollaback to that piece of shit guard. Written by Julie |