Holy crap, Sophia. That's some family...

It is weird that sometimes what seems either completely normal OR just confusing to you as a child is just downright weird and creepifying when you think of it as an adult. When I was in sixth grade, my best firend had an inground pool. When I used to go over to swim, her mother was all "Sophia has boobies. J___, why don't YOU have boobies?' Her dad was all" Wow, Sophia looks REALLY good in a bathing suit!" and her older sister (who was a lesbian) used to make me sit there while she brushed and brushed and brushed my hair. And I thought little of it at the time, but... Weird. Also, the best friend J. not only went to Harvard, but spent at least a semester as a call girl.

A lot of childhood has odd sparks of ill-socialzied sexuality. It's a very weird space, which I thought Welcome To The Dollhouse captured very well.

Actually, "Nice Guy, But..."

At which point I put on a wifebeater and steal cars. Got it.

Though is it a routine to make sure that I have a firm grip on the heavy, hard-sided purse, just in case I need to use it as a weapon? Or is that being prepared?

Heh. I think that's just sensible preparation for potential self-defense. Or, you know, not dropping your purse.

Y'all are making me real eager to walk through the dark parking garage when I leave work.

Women have routines? Do women here have car-reaching routines?

Absolutely. I make sure my keys are strategically placed in between my fingers, pokey side out. My bag/purse are tucked away and not easily got. I do a quick check of the backseat before I get in. I make sure no one is following me.

Keep in mind, this stuff is so second nature, I don't think about it. I just do it. Just like being aware of my surroundings if I'm out and about, at night or otherwise.

Oh, here's a sad (apparently) nice-guy/no-communication tale: One day I was sitting on the subway. I'm sure I was reading, as I was on the subway. I was on the outside seat of a two-seat dealie. As we came to a stop, the man sitting next to me said, "Excuse me..." so I just got up and moved to another seat, to let him get off. Oops, no. Turns out he wanted to talk to me -- he came over a minute later and asked what he had been doing wrong. DUDE. Don't talk to me on the subway.

Head up, look around, with confidence (sort of like ita on a normal day), not with anxiety. Always park under lights at night, in the highest-populated area possible. Move like you have a purpose. Keep the keys in your right hand, ends and edges out and up, between the fingers, firm grip. Pay attention to everybody but don't make eye contact. I run defenses in my head (sort of like Miranda Otto practicing sword work on the sidewalk, but not actually) for being grabbed in different ways. I do a lot of visualization, and have done some simulation because familiarity reduces shock and improves reaction.

That's all I can think of. Oh! Always make sure your trunk lid is locked and check your back seat and floor before you get into your car.

But ultimately, as sorry as I feel for the many many wonderful men who get lumped in, that doesn't outweigh my own sense of self-preservation. So yes, keys (or pen) out, radar on scan, back-seat checked, and generally wary about meeting a new guy in any situation--certainly not in public if I'm alone.

Heh. I think that's just sensible preparation for potential self-defense. Or, you know, not dropping your purse.

Self-defense. I've deliberately broken someone's wrist with my purse.