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Goys Don’t Want To Have Fun
One of the pleasures of the holiday season is taking the time to catch up with your buddies. Usually this entails mundane chatter like “How’s the job going?”, pet-related banter, etc. Not this year. I thought I would have the biggest bombshell of a story (being detained by the police), but this ended up not being the case. Not by a long shot. The very same day I had my little tete a tete with the police, a good friend of mine had an interaction of a distinctly different caliber. Here is her story:
It was a Wednesday night and I was walking my dog at 11:00. This is NOT a particularly spooky time of night around here, what with all the hipsters and families. True, a few years ago my cell phone was stolen out of my hand in broad daylight, but that was by bored preteens in the summer, and it was entirely non-violent in nature. I no longer try to text people and walk the dog at the same time, nor do I wear girlie sandals to walk the dog anymore.
On this particular fateful night, I looked dumpy because I’m walking my dog and don’t give a shit. Jeans, messy hair, no makeup, big winter coat, e.g; I don’t look like a hooker in any way, shape, or form. I notice a heavyset Hasid standing alone on the corner of Montrose and Leonard next to the softball diamond. There is a park right next to said softball diamond, with swing sets, jungle gyms, benches, picnic tables, and a restroom which I have never investigated. I have often seen fathers bring their kids out here at 11:00 at night. There are often other dog walkers about. Tonight, no one else is out at this precise moment, although a number of cars passed. There are many street lights on.
I hesitate, then go ahead and let the dog lead me across the street so I am within earshot of Hasid. I know he can’t touch me anyway. I am now 3 feet away. This was when Hasid asks me for the time. I say I don’t know and show him I have no watch.
Hasid: Oh ok. Um, you wanna have fun?
Me: No.
Hasid: No, you don’t want to have fun?
Me: NO.
Hasid: Oh, ok. (hesitates, then quickly) You know where I can get some fun?
Me (shrugging): There is a bar up Montrose a few blocks.
Hasid: Oh. I can find some fun there?
Me (corralling dog): Maybe.This is when my dog suddenly looks up from sniffing other dogs’ pee. He notices my potential suitor and takes two steps towards him. Hasid lurches back in reflexive terror. Dog, who thinks everyone must be his friend, looks at Hasid, perplexed. I begin to lead dog away from the scene of potential fun, averting my gaze. Just before I’m out of appropriate communication distance, me makes his final offer:
Not even for money, you don’t want to have fun?
Me: NO.
I begin to lead dog briskly away, head still down. I am not frightened in the least. I am somewhat amused, but would like to end the conversation nonetheless. The Hasid stands a moment alone, puts his head down and then hurries back across Broadway with the urgency one usually has to get out of a cold, driving rain or perhaps as though pursued by invisible harpies. This is the exact opposite direction from the bar I told him about. I continue to walk my dog, chuckling to myself from time to time. I see occasional passersby. The dog is once again lost in checking his peemail, oblivious to the recent affront to his owner’s honor.
I dunno, this is pretty damn funny, but not as funny as the guy who was taking a piss on a tree right out in the open and shouting after me “God bless you, Mommy!” What do you think?
New York Shitty analysis: Ah, “East Williamsburg!”. If this chap wanted to have the kind of fun I think he was seeking he could have easily hopped on the G train, taken it the 21st Street in Long Island City and found him some. Dilettante. Then again, maybe he simply wanted a partner to play miniature golf with at The Bushwick Country Club. Alas, now we’ll never know.
I thought being detained by the police for being “a suspicious person” was pretty shitty. I have never, however, been mistaken for being a “working girl” and I take a certain amount of solace in this fact.
Maybe it was the dog?
Miss Heather
Comments
9 Comments on Goys Don’t Want To Have Fun
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bitchcakes on
Wed, 2nd Jan 2008 1:32 pm
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missheather on
Wed, 2nd Jan 2008 2:05 pm
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bitchcakes on
Wed, 2nd Jan 2008 4:54 pm
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Steve of Astoria on
Wed, 2nd Jan 2008 8:08 pm
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mark elliot on
Thu, 3rd Jan 2008 11:03 am
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judes on
Fri, 4th Jan 2008 6:05 pm
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missheather on
Fri, 4th Jan 2008 7:23 pm
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missheather on
Fri, 4th Jan 2008 7:29 pm
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HipHasid on
Sun, 17th Feb 2008 11:09 am
What a creep! What is it with the Hasids in Greenpoint – seriously?! One tried to get me in his minivan (after following me several blocks!) and another told me I had “nice titties” when I wasn’t even wearing anything revealing (for once!).
Where can we read about your police detainment?
This particular incident involved a Hasid. I have had many distasteful incidences in my own life that didn’t. If you want to experience street harassment at its finest, walk down Provost Street. I did several months ago and I haven’t done so since. It was THAT BAD. For this reason I think the better question is “What is it with men (in general)?”.
Clearly someone taught them (be they Hasid, white, Hispanic, etc.) that verbally abusing women and treating them like chattel is acceptable. Why? It doesn’t matter what you were wearing— it never did. What we’re dealing with here is the institutionalized treatment of women as second class citizens. The fact the chap in this story tried to pay for “it” makes this incident even more disgusting. How would he have felt if someone did this to his mother or sister? I doubt he would have liked it very much.
That said, here’s a link to my police experience:
http://www.newyorkshitty.com/?p=2930
You might also find this of interest:
You’re right, I have had my fair share of street/verbal harrassment from men of ALL types. And having been photographed on the subway by a group of men (against my will- they thought they were sneaky and I called them out on it), I reminded them that they have mothers and sisters and wouldn’t want THEM to endure that. It enrages me!
Thanks for the links to the other blogs with your NYPD tales. I am new to your blog.
Maybe I shouldn’t joke about f-ed up situations like the mistaken identity dog-walking story, but I will. Everyone looks better next to a dog. Think about it.
A little while ago, I went to the Pencil Factory in Greenpoint and saw a young Hasid man standing on the corner nervously looking around. Later that night I was walking home, around the n.14th and Wythe area, and about a block ahead of me saw a young Hasid man (maybe the same one, maybe not) standing on the corner. When he saw me coming, he immediately bolted in the opposite direction.
My thought was that there must be some kind of Hasid cruising/drug scene that I had never even though about before. While making no excuses for the inherent fucked-upedness and inexcusability of men of any ethnicity harassing women on the street, I bet it’s awfully confusing for these guys growing up in such a closed society who want to explore outside of it but probably have limited knowledge of the acceptable norms and probably can’t indulge in things such as sex or drugs without fear of being shunned from their society.
Again, not making excuses, a creep’s a creep, but it’s interesting to think about.
The only time I was ever approached like that by a Hasid, I was also a mess—hair every which way, no makeup, wearing crappy jeans, a big coat and carrying a bag of groceries. Perhaps it’s the same guy. He just has a thing for sloppy chicks.
The only time I have had any “interaction” with a Hasid in Greenpoint was when I walked to Found Magazine’s shindig at Galapagos. I was broke so I had to walk with my find: a baseball bat with a sock and shoe nailed to it so as to imitate a human leg. As I was rounding Kent at N. 15th Street a Hasidic gentleman rounded the corner in a minivan. Once he saw my baseball bat he gave me a very wide berth of passage.
It just goes to show: give a 30-something woman a baseball bat bearing footwear and she’s above reproach. Take away the bat and give her a camera, however, and it merits attention from the N.Y.P.D.
Oh yeah: “bitchcakes” I love your screen name.
No excuses, just my Hasidic perspective. BTW it aint the first such story I come across & I tend to believe it’s not the same guy trying doing it.
1) Hasidic guys lack the confidence of picking up girls in bars being that they were never in the game. Matched up at a young age & married, also cus they look so out of the mainstream. Therefore will think the only way to get a girl is by virtue of paying.
1) Many have this vision that woman will have ‘fun’ for money. Being that they never had real world expiriance with woman. Seperated schools, no dating, game, no contact. All he know’s a biblical story of sinful men who picked up women for an exchange.
Very very uneducated… But this is the explanation…
I was at a bar New Years Eve and a girl told me the same story. I told her, you shouldn’t be offended, he offended himself. He just showed his ignaorance.
Personally, I see whistling of men or comments like look at dat damn ass is way more offensive. Not cus of who it is said to but from who it comes from. An Hasidic guy who does such shit lives in ancient world & missing info.
Just my not so subtle two cents.
Hasidic Hippie
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