Unsafe New York: Part Thirty One

GOING TO AN INTERVIEW: GET OUT OF MY WAY BITCH
I was walking to an interview with a tea-salon lady. I got there and the lady was running late as usual. About twenty minute wait down the road I realized it was a time for my body to menstruate. It always happen in suprise for me, and so I was caught off guard. Crashed by a formal atmoshphere and people tip-toeying through the premises, I caught myself asking for PERMISSION to leave to go to the store! This is a slave mentality Americans promote amongst their immigrants. They are still slave owners, though now in denial and hidden. This is what slave mentality does to people. So, after having caught myself, I rephrased and added that I WILL BE going to the store to get something. A scared looking young black woman stopped me and said: you can't leave because Miriam (the name of my potential employer) does not like it. What does Miriam not like? That I am a human being and have needs, and besides she is late like half an hour already. The woman almost blocked my path. "Miss, I am mestruating and need to get tampons" I said straight forward. The woman, terrified and shocked, stepped aside. "Great, see you soon" I said and left. Walking down the street to the store, I did not know that my adventure was just about to begin. As I walked, customary to me on the utmost right side - in order to allow other people to walk pass and through, I observed a tall - 6"2 light black guy walking with steady steps towards me. He was exiting some building and was heading, in diagonal, towards me. I pressed closer to the right: he looked angry. He continued advancing towards me, cutting my path off. In a few seconds, the inevitable happened: the guy and I stood face to face. The guy looked at me expectantly: move aside. It took three seconds or so, then he proceeded to move. He moved right onto me and continued walking. I ended up being moved back against the wall. I said: Stop it, what are you doing? He said: move. I said: there is tons of space to the left, you are cutting me off and telling ME to move?! " He said: yes. Get out of my way, bitch. I remembered the songs that were being span only a few blocks away "get the hoe, get the bitch." I said: I am not a bitch, and I will nto get out of the way. "Oh, no " smiled the guy. He added force to his forward movement and pushed me back a few feet. Meanwhile a delivery person and a building manager were watching all this without a word. The delivery person stopped doing his work and was looking at the event. The building manager was smoking in silence. "Stop it! You are hurting me!" I screamed. The guy continued walking, pushing me against the wall. I stood straight and grabbed onto the wall. I was not moving. He looked at me with estimation, and picked me up and dropped me to the side. Then he continued walking to his bike. I went after him. I said: you are not allowed to push people and then pick them up and move them. "Get the fuck out of my face, bitch" said the guy untieng his bike. He then moved took off.
I called the police.
At first, the operator made me give him all the gruesome details and seemed to be realy taken by my "this guy picked me up. I can still feel his hands on me". "You can still feel his hands on you?" he asked in a strange voice. I swear he almost added: and how do they feel? After promising me the police, and then after I have waited for half an hour, I placed another call. I saw 20 minutes later a police car passing by without stopping. When in another 20 minutes I have called the 911 operator again, I was met with: the police came and did not see anyone, I was told... I have previously given a full description of myself, the address, the location. I also stood all the time by the indicate by me place of meeting...Another request for a police car and another 30 minutes later another police car've arrived. They listened to my story with severe doubt written all over their faces,they have seemed to make up the mind that the biker guy did not do anything wrong just because he picked me up. The building manager came up and acted as a witness. He confirmed my story. I was gaining weight as we spoke: now I had a MALE witness. The building manager conveyed the story and even told the police that I have asked him to call them on the cell phone but that he did not have one on him. He testified further that the guy who picked me up and pushed me was a bike messenger and apparently comes here quite often.
The place by which I got pushed said that the camera they had was not a recording one.
The report was taken and the police left, and I was expected to get back to my normal routine, as if nothinge happened, as if the abuse of female by male was a norm.
Yet again.