[story time] train guy
Content warning: sexual harassment
Today, I once again took the alternative route to work that I talked about recently. I was lucky with train times before, but this time I had to wait for the next train for half an hour. Oops.
I had put little buns in my wig today for the first time. It’s something I had loved to do with my real hair when it was still long, and I had missed it. While getting ready, I weirdly thought about how I rarely ever get approached for help or a friendly talk, and that I must give off mean/pissed off vibes - I do have a resting bitch face, truly. Others get approached more than I do, and I wonder if people only ever ask me for directions or help with finding an item if they have no other choice. I’m confused why I thought about this today, out of nowhere? It’s like it was some foreshadowing.
Fast forward to the train station, I sit down and wait. I sat on a row of three seats, and I usually take the middle. This time though, I felt the strong urge to sit on the left seat and put my bag on the middle seat. No idea why.
No one else is there. I sit in silence for a while. Suddenly from the right, I see a young man approach me, asking when the next train is coming as his phone’s battery is dead. I’m immediately a bit guarded, but answer him. He asks if he can sit down. I say sure. I don’t want to be rude, and maybe he is nice. People frequently have nice or even wholesome interactions with strangers, and I want to be open to that.
It starts innocently. “Are you from the area? What’s your name? My name is xxxx. I’m from xxxx. I’ve spent my last two days in xxxxx, now I’m on my way home. Oh, you’re on your way to work. How old are you? 30? I thought you were 20. I’m 20. You are so beautiful, you know. The buns are different, but they look so good on you.”
Then the inevitable question. “Are you married?”
I am.
“So, what does your husband do? How is he?”
Cringe. Am I honest now? I already had one man tell me I will die for being gay almost 3 years or so ago after he hit on me and I rejected him. I take the chance. “My wife.”
“Your wife? How does that work? Two women? How do you have sex? Have you never tried a man before? Do you use sex toys? What size strap-on do you buy?”
I try to divert the questions and be as vague as possible without outright flipping out or rejecting it, to placate him. I’m alone here after all and if he gets violent with me, no one is here to help. Another problem is, the decent get-to-know question before that really lowered my guard, there’s rapport now, I react less harshly than I would have if he would have just started with sexual shit.
I tell him to just go watch porn, there he can see. Silence. It continues on with questions around that. I always try to end the discussion or move it away from that whenever I am asked anything, but it’s futile. He talks about when he fucks women, he only fucks them once, then he wants nothing to do with them. Ew. Then another shot.
“Do you like big or small penises?”
Silence.
“Can I sit there? Or on your other side?” He points at my bag, the middle seat. I say no.
“Oh okay… you know, I wasn’t gonna do anything. I just wanted to play with your buns.”
I feel awful about my buns now. They got me into this mess somehow. Something I adored so much and was happy to wear today… until now.
“Do you like blowjobs?”
Silence.
“I don’t know how you tell you this, but I want you to blow me.”
I throw him a disgusted look.
“No?”
I say no.
“Why not?”
I say that I’m married and I’m not interested in men and I am on my way to work.
“But some do it anyway!”
I tell him then he shouldn’t do that regardless.
A long, long silence. Finally people show up. I feel a bit safer.
“Are you mad at me?”
I look at him and tell him I have no feelings. It’s true. I just feel absolutely nothing. I am numb.
2 minutes until the train will show up. There are now small crowds here and there at the stop. I could go up to them and stand near them to stop the barrage of sexual stuff. But for some reason, I feel frozen in place.
“Do you do stuff for money? Sex?”
I say no. I am disgusted now.
“No matter how much money?”
No!
“Great. Good. Never change.” He gives me a thumbs up, for some reason.
The train arrives, we both get up and thankfully he enters a different train section than I do.
Finally out of the situation, the tension falls off and I just want to cry. I wish I didn’t have to go to work. At work, the coworker I share my office with is on vacation, so I opted to sit in another office with another coworker so I don’t have to be alone.
I can barely concentrate because I keep being teleported back to parts of the conversation. I wonder if I should have done anything differently. I scold myself for not having done… whatever, really. I realize that my seat choice and bag placement likely somewhat saved me from this turning physical. I feel sick.
And now I’m writing this note on my phone in the work bathroom. I should be used to this by now, because this stuff happens to women everywhere starting at 12 years old, but it’s been a while.
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Published 28 Jul, 2025