nah, he didn't. There are things in that situation that speak, imo, to what happened to the lacrosse player in VA. People knew he was violent. well...
those young women in Maine reacted even though he hadn't been violent yet, just made the moves to be, partly because turns out, as they told me, he was a contractor in town for work and had already bothered many local women. So when he acted out towards me, and they saw my reaction, they moved in.
I can't tell how grateful I was. i was on my first vacation in nine years. not even an overnight time off in those years. And those years in a daym southern holler, dealing with angry violent men who act out towards women. always on guard, too many fights to tell about.
and I was really trying to not 'make a scene' in a strange town up north, acting the southern rube and raising my fists to the dude. plus, very much plus, I really really wanted to relax... to sit and write, and not have any fools around me, and not fight, and not be called names or attacked...
I was so sad when the ass followed me from the cafe and did what he did. I was fairly chilled about at the cafe... amazing how many men think a woman alone with a writing pad must want some dude to start chatting her up. and really... we dixie folk do so hate to be rude, especially to strangers in a strange town.
those women lifted my spirits far more than I think they could realize. and then... the cool dude who was a local... forget his name... he saw me on the street the next day and waved me down to come shoot pool with him and have a beer. then he introduced me to everyone.
I promised to come back by the next spring. but as fate had it, the morning I was set to leave, I got up, had my coffee, then turned on the tv to entertain me while I packed my bags... it was 9/11/2001.
things change. I haven't made it back yet. |
