The Marta Chronicles

I had an interview on Thursday. Took Marta, of course. I'm not saying that Marta brings out the ugly in people but . . . Let's see. The bus driver missed my stop while staring at my breasts through his mirror. I had to rang the bell three times before he hit the brakes, almost sending me crashing through the front window. I don't think he saw me looking at him through the mirror or maybe he did and didn't care. I knew he was oggling them because when I boarded, his eyes went there immediately before he even said hello with a big, boyish smile.

Then . . .

After waiting almost an hour, the person who was to interview me, never showed. He was stuck in a meeting and thought "someone" had called me to reschedule for a later time. I left. Back on Marta - train station - a man whispers in my ear - "Could I go fishing in your hole?" Now, I didn't hear him the first time. Or maybe the dark side in me heard but wanted to hear again. Regardless, I said: "Pardon me?" And his stupid ass repeated the question. I was repulsed, I can read between the lines though there wasn't any room left with that kind of question. My face must have conveyed my answer. I was confused, angry and embarassed - hoped no one else had heard. He snicked then backed away.

This isn't the first time I've encountered such bold lewdness, which is one of the reasons I hate Five Points. On my way to an interview, another date and time, I was riding up the escalator and felt someone bump me from behind. I turned and spied a man bending down tying his shoe laces (to me, at first glance, that's what it looked like). I move up three steps to give him more room. We were the only two on the escalator at the time but I didn't wonder why he was so close until he moved up again, closing the gap between us. I felt him bump me again, twice before I turned to confront him and that's when I saw his head THIS CLOSE to my ass. I quickly trotted up the remaining steps to the top and stood there, shocked. I was SHOCKED AS HELL. He grinned, tipped his raggedy assed hat and said : "You smell so good." I looked around for an office (none to be found - I wasn't surprised) then mouthed "You son of a bitch!" I don't think the words came out of my mouth, I just remember mouthing them and breathing hard, hands clenched into fists.

A few years ago, while waiting for the #24 on Decatur street, a man in a black Cutlass accosted me. He parked his car in front of me, leaned towards the passenger's side, window rolled down and asked: "Hey, do you wanna ride?" I smiled and said: "No thank you." But he didn't drive away, just sat there for a second then asked -> "Well, do you wanna ride this?" Obviously I was having a "tucker the sucker" moment because I peered just a little too long. Either I couldn't believe my eyes or I really did think he was pointing a gun at me. And I did, in my mind I thought he's forcing me into this car by gun point THEN I realized that it wasn't a gun but his other fucking weapon. He howled with laughed because I started to cry. I could feel the hot tears in my eyes as he was driving away. But I wrote down his plate number and the bus pulled up seconds after he drove away. I was home within twenty five minutes, calling the police with a description of the man, the car and the plate number but that's a long story which resulted in them doing nothing. In fact, four days passed before an investigator called me back (by then my employers were involved, beefing up security and calling the police as well). After four days, one weekend included in those days, the officer had the fucking nerve to ask "What took you so long to call us?" That's Dekalb County for ya.

posted by Darni @ 7/28/2001 08:59:00 AM