a man hit me today and a man hit me on some other days too

A man hit me today. A stranger. Less than an hour ago.

I made it home and am sitting here feeling numb. Wondering why I’m not angry or crying.

Mostly I’m just weary. I don’t think of myself as more or less of a target than anyone else.

Walking with my sibling a couple months ago in another city, a man was weaving around on the sidewalk approaching us, then lunged and hit me in the leg. He kept going. I yelled something, I can’t remember what. He disappeared into the crowd. Then I felt outrage. Nauseated. Violated once again. Touched without my permission.

*

It happened in DC in September. I sat on a bus with family and a man was waiting to exit, talked to me, tried to shake my hand. I politely said I’d prefer not to and he began screaming at me, calling me a stuck-up bitch. My family did nothing. The bus driver. The other passengers. Everyone just sat. I was frozen in fear and anxiety until he stepped off the bus. Later I wept, feeling so unprotected, so undefended. So vulnerable.

*

Today, as I walked home from a bakery run, I dodged some squirrelly-looking characters on a corner, and took a right onto a busy street. Saw a man approaching on the sidewalk. It was nine a.m. Lots of cars. I heard a shout. Was it the man who was now just a few yards away? He wasn’t tall, but compact, young, fit-looking. Normally if I had even a sliver of worry I’d cross the street, but there was orange construction netting blocking the opposite sidewalk. So I kept going. It was broad daylight. Rainy.

As we passed each other I moved to the left, saw a baton in the man’s hand, thought Surely he wouldn’t hit me, instinctively brought the umbrella up to shield myself and WHACK, down came the baton. Hard. It rattled the umbrella. My elbow wavered.

I said nothing. Felt a surge of fear. Walked as fast as I could away from him. Do I call someone? Did the construction workers across the street see anything? I vowed long ago never to call the cops on a black man. But this one just struck me.

I looked back. He was walking away. Yelled something.

I hurried home.

Over the weekend at a support group a man was ranting about a woman who shared too much information, in his opinion, in another venue. She’s opening herself up to all kinds of pervs or weird men attacking her, he sputtered. I said, You’re entitled to your opinion but all a woman has to do to be attacked in this world is simply exist.

I don’t have a neat wrap-up or insight. These things happen and happen. No one is punished or even admonished except me for daring to exist, I guess. For daring to be in public, getting ice cream or walking to a bakery.