Come and get me if you think you’re hard enough
Sexual harassment / assault, call it what you will, is the curse of every woman’s life in Cairo. It doesn’t matter what you wear, what you look like, how old you are or even if you’re dead…..although I believe that it’s only legal to have sex after death if it is performed within 12 hours……Sorry I digress.
The other day I was dandering home from my yoga class, well one has to keep ones self toned (more on that later) when some bloody pervert, no make that two bloody perverts decided to make a beeline for me.
Nothing would do, but they drove over to my side of the road, which effectively meant they were driving up the wrong side of the road, against oncoming traffic, average day in Cairo then… Anyway before I knew it a hand poked out the window and grabbed my ass, gave it a squeeze and trailed me alongside the car for a few steps.
My ladylike expat persona ehmm went out the window at that stage and the hardcore Lurgan girl revealed herself. It was like I was 18 again and back outside the Ashburn Disco fighting with those Kilwilkie Chavs. I let the loudest scream possible out, and I can assure you 25 years plus of smoking lends a certain edge to that scream.
Out poured a litany of all the swear words in my vocabulary, both English and Arabic and I launched myself at them. Yes, I chased the bloody car down the road, well I was well limbered up after the yoga, unfortunately the 25 years of smoking put a little damper on my pace. Needless to say I didn’t catch them, but I did provide the mornings entertainment for the security guards stationed right outside the Japanese embassy. What they made of me I have no idea, but a fat lot of use they were, their cards are marked, I’ll get them later.
Pay attention now ladies, especially those in Maadi, the car was a black Mitsubishi, hand painted so it had a matt finish. Obviously, and lucky for them, it had no number plate, and it was being driven by two fortyish men in black leather jackets. Yes, they looked like some caricature of arch villains. What I really needed was a superhero to come to the rescue of this damsel in distress. I’m not interested in superman, batman or any of the others, I want James Bond to take me up on this, preferably Daniel Craig but Pierce Brosnan would do at a pinch.
Having then made it home and vented my frustration via Facebook I decided I would not walk the streets again without being armed. Now I considered a taser … But I’m not very technical and felt I would surely end up electrocuting myself, I can’t work the TV remote so that really wasn’t an option. I also considered a can of Mace but with my advancing years I would need to put on my glasses to make sure I wasn’t pointing the nozzle at myself. I concluded that due to the time element involved in finding the glasses which would inevitably be at the bottom of my bag, if I remembered to bring them at all, that Mace was also a no go.
As a temporary solution I armed myself with a really good chunk of concrete. It was an especially pointed one so that I could hurl it at the car and ideally smash the windscreen. The problem with that one was I needed to wear hoodies, or fleeces so I could hold it in my pocket as I walked. I’m not really a hoodie kind of girl and I won’t have my fashion sense dictated by a slice of concrete, anyway that dreary grey colour that concrete comes in does nothing for my skin tone.
I found the perfect solution in the Manky Mall, sorry Maadi Grand Mall or MGM as it says on the employees jackets. That MGM logo they wear with pride always makes me laugh. I’m sure the owners got a specially reduced, possibly off the back of a lorry job lot of jackets and named the mall to suit the initials. Anyway, I found a set of dumbbells in the sports shop, just one kilo each in an eerily reminiscent matt black finish, theres Karma for you.
I carry one in each hand as I walk along. On a positive note my upper arms are getting rather toned. I’m not quite in the Madonna category yet but I’m working on my bowling action so I can launch them at great speed at any unsavoury character who dares to impose on my personal space. The only disadvantage is that they look feckin ridiculous unless accessorised with trainers and and a seriously sassy power walking attitude. I must get some yellow ones for the spring fashion lines, oh, and I won’t let the ba$&@rds grind me down!