I took the train and then the subway to get to my first job, walking from one to the other underground. Most days, I became one of a hoard, but once, when I was late, I found myself alone. Okay, I thought, no sweat. There’s one middle-aged guy coming the other direction in a raincoat and a suit, a briefcase in his hand, a newspaper under his arm. He looks kinda like my dad. Best case scenario! If somebody dangerous comes along, this guy will protect me.
The tunnel was long, and the man never even looked in my direction. But just as we were about to pass, he veered toward me, dropped the paper and briefcase, grabbed me in a lock hold, and put his hand up my skirt. He squeezed my crotch and – inches from my face – he laughed. It’s that cackle I remember most after all these years, guttural and wicked; I remember the warmth of his ugly breath. I felt humiliated and helpless, completely under the man's control, and grateful, dammit, that he let me go. I was eighteen.
Beyond the tunnel, I passed a policeman with a dog, but what was I going to say? The guy was probably long gone, and, besides, I didn’t want to get him into trouble with his family or his job. I didn't want to embarrass myself by describing the attack. From work, I called my mom, who listened to me cry for a while and then told me to buck up. It happens. Move on. In spite of her advice, I worried all day about getting through that tunnel again to make it home, and I’ve been spooked by subway tunnels ever since.
I doubt that awful stranger got any sexual pleasure from his little grope. It wasn't about sex, it was about power. He did it to scare and humiliate me. He did it because he could. The situation presented itself, and he was pretty sure I wouldn't say a word. How many other women and girls did he humiliate over the years to help him get through a lousy day? How much did he brag about it to his friends?
Now, of course, I know the name for this kind of behavior – let us call it what it is: sexual assault, and, businessman or not, that man, like Donald Trump, was a sexual predator. If I could do it over, I would scream bloody murder in the tunnel and press charges when I got out.
What I would never do is to vote for him, or anyone remotely like him, if he were ever to run for president.