In the past month, I’ve had more than my fair of awkward situations. From dripping ice cream on myself in New York City to falling over on the subway, I’ve experienced it all.
However, a recent experience in the Spring Garden section of Philadelphia was probably the most embarrassing of my adventures. Philadelphia is called the “City of Brotherly Love,” and people really want to show that.
As usual, I hopped off the bus and started walking the three or so blocks to my internship. Along the way, I stopped to buy a soda from one of the local vendors.
It was then I heard it.
“Hey baby,” leered a 30-year-old admirer from behind my ear. I whirled around, and watched as he looked me up and down. I turned spun back and paid the local vendor for my soda.
But just as I was handing the vendor my money, I heard the voice again.
“Baby, has anyone told you how pretty you look today?”
I didn’t have the patience for flattery, nor did I have the patience to be held up on my way to work. Feeling frustrated, I retorted back, “I have a boyfriend, and he’s told me plenty.” Big mistake. Apparently, my so-called admirer took this as a sign of flirtation.
“Can I walk you to work? A pretty girl like you would really brighten up my day.”
This was getting out of hand. I shook my head no, and felt in my purse for the mace I carry along in case of emergencies.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to use it.
“Listen, I’m leaving,” I responded, and turned around to take the short cut past the American Red Cross to work.
“Where you going pretty lady? I’m coming with,” protested my admirer.
My brain screamed no. What was I to do?
Luckily for me, I didn’t have to react. The local food vendor standing less than five feet away reacted for me. As my so-called admirer started to follow me, said vendor took it upon himself to defend my honor. Most people would expect this situation to include a call to the local police, or perhaps a personal escort to my place of employment. Not me. No, I was treated to a different kind of luxury.
Being a local vendor in Philadelphia means having a lot of food handy at all times. In fact, such food can be considered a weapon. At least for this local vendor.
I could only watch as a seemingly calm vendor began to throw cheese steak rolls at my unsuspecting admirer. Four or five rolls were thrown at said admirer until the astonished admirer decided to hightail out of there (in a run, might I add).
After the admirer had left, I gathered up the courage to ask him why on earth he had decided to throw cheesesteak rolls at said admirer.
“There have been enough rapes in this city,” he said. “We’ve got to do something to stop it.”
So there you have it folks. Don’t touch the mace, touch the cheesesteak rolls. It’s the newest method of protection these days.
~Stacy Lipson
Philadelphia,PA
stacy.lipson@temple.edu
