For those who don't believe, Number Nine

I am 54
And this is so, so bizarre because I didn't even think of it as assault, I thought of it as a pass. Who makes a pass at a middle-aged woman wearing a loose sundress?

It's 8 p.m. on an early August evening. I am walking home from the state fair. It's only three miles and Primo is staying late to help with some political stuff. I could take Primo's car, but I don't like driving his car. I could take the bus, but the next bus isn't for 30 minutes.

It's nice. I have time. I can walk.

It's crowded by the fair, but gets less crowded the further north I go.

As I wait to cross a major street, I see a teenager waiting to cross as well.

Because I am such an Enlightened, Good Person, I make eye contact with him and smile slightly. I acknowledge him because are we not humans together on this planet, bound by common experience?

Am I not Noble, to look a young man in the eye, a stranger?

Am I not Good? Am I not Unlike The Others who ignore strangers?

I am! I am Good! I am Noble! I am Enlightened!

I smile in smug satisfaction at myself as I cross.

Finally, I am alone on the sidewalk.

Which I have been waiting for. I didn't mention it to you, but my underwear has been crawling up my butt.

I know! I know! TMI! TMI!

But it's part of the plot.

I am finally alone, so I reach behind me to make the necessary adjustment.

As I pull my hand away, I still feel a hand on my butt.

And I hear a voice say, "Would you like some help with that?"

I turn and  - it's the kid I saw waiting to cross.

He stares at me.

"Stop that!" I order him. "Stop that right now!"

He stares.

"Go away!" I shoo him with my hand. "Go away! This is completely inappropriate! What would your mother say? She would be ashamed of you."

He stares.

"I am old enough to be your grandmother!" I tell him.

I have completely missed the point. Completely.

This? This is not about sex or attraction or flirting.

This is about power and men thinking they can do what they want.

I am not concerned, though. I outweigh this kid by a good 20 pounds and he can't be more than 15 or 16.

"Go away," I tell him. "Just turn around and walk away."

I turn and start walking again.

He follows me.

"Oh my gosh. Would you just go away?"

He doesn't.

I keep walking, but now I am looking at the houses, thinking maybe I should knock on someone's door.

He follows.

"Go away or I'm going to call the police," I say.

He follows.

I turn toward a house and dial 911.

It's a kid following me.

It's not a fire.

I'm not being beaten.

I'm not being robbed.

I'm not being raped.

This? This is not 911.

Yet I call 911.

He follows.

"I am on the phone with the police!" I tell him. "You need to go away!"

As I am talking to the operator - "I am so sorry to bother you with something so trivial," I ring the doorbell.

The kid keeps following, across the grass.

It is only when a man opens the door that the kid decides to leave.

And all I can focus on as I tell my story to the man and his wife is that wait I am 54 years old why would anyone grab the ass of a 54 year old woman?