It was just after 2 a.m. on a pitch-black Friday morning when Bernadette Greene-Placentiaās life changed. The Democratic candidate for Congressional District 8 strolled across a parking lot to repair a damaged campaign sign. It was a routine sheād followed all summer. This time, she only made it a few yards.
An attacker smashed her over the head. She blacked out. She woke up to find a strange man on top of her.
Greene-Placentia struggled to open her eyes. She felt a sharp pain below her waist. The attacker was pulling his penis out of her.
She heard him mumble something like, ā-ic bitch, not a very good fuck,ā which her mind filled in as āDemocratic bitch,ā she recalled. She wasnāt sure that was exactly what he said.
One leg was out of her jean capris. She wore brand-new tennis shoes and a campaign t-shirt. Another man came over. Greene-Placentia felt his weight nudging her left leg further apart. She began swinging her foot at him. āNot even worth it,ā she heard the man say as he moved away. He wore black boots and had small feet, she recalled.
The two men left Greene-Placentia face down in the parking lot. The hatch of her silver Jeep Grand Cherokee was still open. The car was still running. She heard music.
She doesnāt remember pulling up her pants or picking herself off the asphalt parking lot. She doesnāt remember closing her Jeepās hatch and putting her foot on the gas. She doesnāt remember pulling her car into the driveway and collapsing into her bed.
āItās just these little tiny flashes of things that I do remember,ā Greene-Placentia said in an interview with Phoenix New Times. āAs much as I donāt want to remember, Iāve tried very, very hard to remember more stuff. But thatās where Iām at.ā
Same. My wife has told me there is a massive difference between going shopping and I just tag along and going by herself. Even in public areas, she just notices less stares and gets less random comments from men.
Once, long ago, I dated a woman with really flashy good looks. Pale blond hair, big tits, beautiful face, the works. She got so much attention that even when I was with her I could sense it myself. In fact I got a special form of the āmale gazeā which was reserved just for me: these sneering looks like āwhoās that piece of shit with her?ā It wasnāt an all day every day kind of thing but if we went out to bars it was palpable. It was very interesting to actually get a personal taste of that kind of attention. As a dude you typically just have no idea.