Street Harassment or 'Bus-Stop Banter'? Four luscious lads explain why the difference is all to do with how uptight you are



Maybe it’s because you didn’t exfoliate this morning. Maybe it’s because you haven’t gone for that everything-below-the-neck wax this week. Maybe it’s because you’ve been a bit naughty and eaten one whimsical cupcake too many. Whatever it is, you’re in that super terrible situation that befalls even hot superstars like Carey Mulligan and Katy Perry – your harasser at the bus stop just isn’t listening to you. So what should you do? We asked other sexist menaces on public transport to share their thoughts, explaining why this is your fault.

Dmitri, 28, arsewipe
If you want me to stop pushing you into a corner and doing the high-pitched ‘stoned 12 year old’ laugh in your face, maybe you should talk to those guys at work who laugh behind my back because I’m too shy to talk to them and my voice breaks when I try. This is the closest I get to human interaction. I just want to be acknowledged, even if you’re going to call the police.

Gab, 23, noncebiscuit
I like women – I’m in an open relationship with my girlfriend so I can like them all at once! Joking aside, I do properly respect women. It’s just, you know, you’re in a club, you’ve taken a bit of K, and these girls are dancing around. I mean, they’re dancing around, right? Everybody likes hanging out together at these indie darkwave dubstep DJ sets, so it’s not like a big deal if you come up and just tickle them a bit. And maybe rub up against them. If there’s more than one person though, I won’t because I’m scared of getting beat on by a couple of chicks filled with snakebites and feminism.

Ryan, 22, manchild
As a connoisseur of lad mags and an internet pornography addict, I’m terrified of body parts hairier than those of 9 year old - including those belonging to myself - and women who aren’t either anal sluts or my mother. Consequently, making lurid derogatory remarks about lone women I suspect of having anything more than a Hitler ‘tache downstairs, which is an affront to my infantile, near-fundamentalist,
outlook on life, is my way of distracting myself from the niggling doubt that I am, in fact, a terrible human being.

Kevin, 31, bumbucket
I’m totally up for having a peaceful tube journey home, but girls wearing short skirts need to be asked if they want ‘a dicking’. Because I’m going home alone, as usual, the sight of anybody’s legs are a terrible and poignant torture to me. It’s like being confronted with every lost opportunity – to make my mum proud and be at my estranged sister’s wedding and make my relationship with my amazing ex-girlfriend work – but wrapped up in fishnets.  The sexual threat probably won’t ease the pain, but at least I’ll cry into my pillow about an immediate shame when I get in.