Madman of Lyon


I was dressed nicely and walking home from a bar with four friends when a guy started hitting on me. And by hitting on me, I mean yelling at me and calling me racist for not wanting to talk to him at some ungodly hour of the night. When I asked him politely to leave me alone after five minutes of harassment, he proceeded to tell me that I was not cute but in fact an ugly prostitute and I could go do various unsavory things to my mother. Fifteen minutes later, thanks to the intervention of another group of men, my friends and I were able to escape and walk home with only a few derogatory comments hurled our way from passing cars. #MFIF

Lauren, Lyon

7 Responses to “Madman of Lyon”

  1. Zlabiroth Says:

    Can you tell us what the men have done exactly?

    I mean, do they have had a fight with the car driver? Did they asked him to apologize?

    These people never get any correction or lesson, so they will never learn…

  2. fightforthewrite Says:

    I just cant help but wonder if you’re just a bit too cynical. Don’t take this comment personally. 😉

  3. Malboro Girl Says:

    jerks are everywhere. the best thing you can do is keep going until you reach home..

  4. Lauren Says:

    @ Fightforthewrite: Please do explain your cynical comment and how it is not personal. I am not so sure how I am cynical and how being labeled thus is not personal.

    As for greater detail, the guy was walking in the opposite direction with a friend of his and did a complete about-face to start following me in the direction he had come from. I was in a giant, knee-length puffy jacket and my four friends were similarly clothed. His main claim was that I did not want to talk to him because he is Arab (most of my boyfriends have been Arabs so that was pretty hilarious) and that I was pretty and should party with him and his friend. Normally after a minute max, the guys lose interest and walks away. Not him. Five minutes with him walking in the wrong direction, I broke my rule of silence and told him politely and firmly that all we wanted to do was to go to bed and be left alone. Hearing my accent this started him off on a game of “guess the country” with my French friend finally interjecting “She is American, not Eastern European!” He continued to tell me I was pretty but a racist American and pathetic for not wanting to party with him. After about 5 more minutes of this constant yelling in my face, I told him he needed to back down and leave us alone now. That is when the pent of stream of misogyny really let lose. I had the c*nt of a prostitute, was a dirty whore, was actually an ugly man, all my friends were much cuter, I could go f*ck my sisters and mother and female relatives (keep in mind that insulting female family members in Arab cultures is a HUGE insult), he could teach me a lesson… You get the picture. But he was backing away as he did this so I kept my mouth uncharacteristically shut, thinking he was leaving. Nope, he just wanted to get into a position where he could rip my tiny french friend’s hat off her head and push her. So turned around and went ballistic on him and he backed off for a second but my aggressiveness pissed off his silent friend who then started calling me a whore which got the main guy started all over again. He ripped my friend’s hat off her head again and was laughing hysterically about how we were all c*nts when another group of guys came up, got on their case for being so awful, and told us to leave quickly. We took off and just had some other men yell about our “prostitute c*nts” from car windows. Lovely night.

  5. Arielle Cohen Says:

    This is when you have to Hollaback!

  6. Pashupati Says:

    Did you get their car number?

  7. Katherine Says:

    Sounds like a similar charmer I met in Toulouse… ‘French racist bitch’ I think was the phrase of choice that afternoon.

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