There was a blog quarrel yesterday between Belle Waring, Kevin Drum, and Megan McArdle yesterday. Life is too short to read all the relevant posts and the comment sections to catch up, so I won't. I just wanted to point out an observation by Waring about being a chick in Manhattan in the 70s and 80s. 

Especially considering that Megan grew up in New York City in the 70s and 80s, which means I am morally certain some dude has flashed her, or masturbated next to her on the subway, or done something equally unwelcome. How not? (I have experienced all these things, and more! Ask me about the time the cops told me the man hassling me was a convicted sex offender who had forcibly raped at least 6 women, and I was “an idiot” because I returned idle pleasantries, in a deflecting way, on the BART. It was apparently my duty to remain silent at all times.) But then, she doesn’t mention it, so perhaps she was weirdly lucky in this regard. Really weirdly lucky.

I spent a good deal of time in the city in high school. I would take the bus at the end of my block into 178th Street and then take the A train down to West 4th to shop or hang out. Sometimes with friends. Sometimes just on my own. After college, I moved into the city.

And all that groping and jerking off and rubbing and flashing and other nasty business happened all the time. Oddly, I never told my parents about it. I never yelled at the guy or made a scene. I just kinda edged away and pretended that it wasn't happening. 

If I had a daughter, I would tell her how to handle that crap.