I don’t live in London.
I like to work in London in glittering cabaret shows, bedecked in sequins and crystals then I gather up my bags and trudge home, make up flaking, at the end of an evening. I take the late night train home, a train regularly character filled. I use those fifty five or so minutes as my decompression chamber. I take my make up off, I listen to audio books or I chat to friends on various social media platforms. It’s nice, it’s relaxing and by the time I step off the train by the seaside, I’m chilled and ready to starfish my way into tomorrow.
Tonight, my routine was interrupted by several gentlemen. Allow me to set the scene…
I stepped on to the train and assumed my usual corner seat, the one right at the front with a little table. Within a minute or so, five chaps of a rather burly description with shaved heads and assorted football wear, had claimed the seats around me.
They tried to strike up conversation but I’m rather taciturn on my homeward journey so I fended off the questions. However, now I feel bad about that, it was bad manners to not want to talk about myself to gents I’d never met, so I thought I might remedy my error and answer them right here.
Where have I been? I’ve been to work.
“You’re beautiful.” Thanks. I wasn’t looking for a late night affirmation from five men I’ve never met. I’m not sure any lone woman would welcome this sort of attention over and over again. Whilst you stare at them in a rather obsessive way. But, you know, thanks.
“Your eyes are blue. I like blue eyes. Blue is my favourite eye colour.”
And a few more times, just in case I hadn’t heard. Not creepy at all.
“Are you naked under your coat?” No. No I’m not. It’s winter. Who wants to travel home on a train at 11pm wearing nothing but a coat in winter. And you can see my blue dress under my coat. So I’m not sure why you’d ask this question.
Am I a ghost? No. If I were a ghost, I’d certainly haunt somewhere more salubrious than a train.
“Stuck up cunt.” I’m not. I just don’t want to a) fuck you b) make inane conversation with five drunk men I’ve never met before. Who’ve already asked me if I’m naked under my coat.
Am I foreign? No. Would it make all this ok if I was? BTW, your faux-talian accent is dreadful, almost bordering on xenophobically bad.
You want to cum on my face. That’s nice. Really nice. Such a kind offer but, you know, I’m on my way home from work. I’ve done a show this evening, my serotonin and adrenaline have been absorbed by those glorious, happy faces, so I’m kind of tired. It was a Christmas show, so wrangling the audience and persuading them to my will took a lot of energy.
Also, we’ve never met.
Oh, you touched my foot. It’s ok, I can move my foot over here, closer to my other foot and further away from your feet. I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea, like I’m enjoying the taunts, jibes and come-ons from all five of you. I mean, I obviously am, right? You chaps are having a huge giggle. And me? Well, I’m stony silent, staring at my phone with my headphones on (FYI, noise cancelling doesn’t mean total noise blocking), shrinking into the corner whilst you mime something that appears to be me gargling, no not gargling, gobbling your man seed. I wouldn’t go down the mime road, if I were you chaps. Though, it was utterly clear to me so maybe it could be a career path for you once you stop hassling women on trains.
Finally, after 15 minutes of your repeated incursions into my airspace, I feel it is time for me to go and you to go down. I get up. I speak up. I tell you all what I think of you and how ashamed of you I am.
Some of you have the decency to look sheepish, some of you tell me that you were “Only havin’ a laugh, innit”. I suppress the urge to correct your English, I gather my things and stalk up the train.
It’s only when I find safe haven that I notice how much my hands are shaking.
It might not have been me tonight. It might have been someone younger, less assertive, someone who was actually from another country. Someone for whom sexual assault is not just words. Someone for whom it could have been a deeply traumatic experience.
I am someone’s daughter. I am someone’s wife. I am someone’s mother.
If those chaps had stopped for just one second to consider that, maybe they would have stopped, or not even started.
I have the right to travel home in silence.
I have the right to travel home alone.
I have the right to not make small talk with drunk men I’ve never met.
I have the right to not be intimidated
I have the right. Women have the right. Every single woman has the right.
Just take your words and your looks and your, frankly awful, mimes and just go to fucking hell, you pieces of shit.
You are not taking my right to feel safe away from me. I am woman and have the right to exist in space without the fear of unwanted, unasked for attentions.
I was worried. I was scared and I was shaken.
As I left the train, my car keys slipped between my fingers, an older gentleman, his hair in long greying braids, assured me in a lilting Jamaican accent that I had nothing to fear from him. I half smiled, it was a glimpse of something better, something positive.
I got home safely. I called the British Transport Police. I reported it.
Now my hands have stopped shaking but I blaze with a white hot rage that those ‘men’ (and I use that word loosely because there is nothing manly about their behaviour) would dare to insinuate themselves into my personal space.
They are not worth my fear. They are not worth a thing.
Lili La Scala 
Brilliantly written and so true. You were very brave to speak up, but you shouldn’t have had to be brave. And contacting the police was the right thing to do. Lots wouldn’t. Hope you’re feeling ok now.
Love, a fan.
So sad you had this experience. My daughter worked in London and lived in Dunstable and has has similar problems. It matters not what your age or looks, these trolls assume the right to abuse you, for abuse this most certainly was. Hope it doesn’t happen again but as I’m sure the twats that did can’t read, it may. Stay safe young lady, glad somebody eventually helped you.
This is brilliantly written Lili. But I’m appalled you had to experience that on your way home from work. I’m not sure I would have been strong enough to stand up to them as you did. You’re an inspiration. Hope you’re feeling better today x
Hi Lili. Thank you for sharing this. It makes me angry too that a woman alone seemz to be an open invitation to some men. I admire your strength in standing up to them. Although, as you say, some women aren’t able to do that. Glad you got home safely. Julia
This makes me so angry. I lost count of how many times I found myself in a similar situation. I know their giggles, I know their eyes, I know that leave-me-alone feeling. Thanks for sharing and for standing up.
What an awful experience, whilst I hope it never happens to you again for the future it is worth noting that BTP can be text on 61016, .they can then meet the train at the next station, see link below :
http://www.btp.police.uk/61016_text_service1.aspx
Thank you for this. I wish I had had this last night. I shall amend the blog and include this detail in the hope that another lone woman won’t need it.
No problem.
The more the word gets out about this the better I think.
Disgusted I had to stop half way through reading that because my rage was starting to boil. I personally if I ever saw such action would begin to record it with my camera on my phone and offer it to the victim or the BTP if or when the male or males in question got off or when she got off. I’d take no issue with waiting for another train some place else even if I had to give a statement to the police over such actions because it would make me feel better such men get caught.
And also prove decent men do also use trains and though they may not speak up some of us have the guts to record evidence without being noticed. Really depressing to read this.
It’s depressing that no other passengers intervened.
I hope you have managed to put this dreadful experience behind you and continue travelling on your own at night without fear. Very courageous of you to share this.
My wife and I saw you at the fringe in ,Edinburgh with some friends, we lived the show, and I added a friends request with a hope of seeing another of your shows, I read your post and feel upset that no one tried to help, on Friday my 23yr old daughter had left work at lunchtime for a sandwich, and in broad daylight a car with three youths in mounted the pavement and tried to get her in the car, first from the front doors then again from the back, luckily she got away and back to work where the police were called , she was really distressed then angry that she failed to get the car number plate, she is fine, however I woke up at 3am worried at what may have hapoened. I am sorry there are so many horrible people, however there are some lovely people as well, like the ones who come time and time again to see you, take care, hope you have a great ,Christmas x
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One time I was on an empty carriage and a guy came and sat next to me. He was huge and I was terrified so I talked to him until the next stop even though he was too big for the seat and his whole body was pushed against me. Then I pretended it was my stop and got off and ran down the platform to another carriage and got back on. Spent the whole journey afraid he would walk along the train. Sadly this sort of thing happens to women a lot. Hope you’re ok.
You’re wrong lili. They were not gentlemen in any sense of the word. They were scum sucking bottom feeders, that deserve to be given treatment in kind.
We are all so glad you had the courage to a/ speak up, and b/ move, though this should never be necessary, ever.
There are always people trying their luck out there.
Your experience is all too familiar. Thank you for singing your song so clearly. One day those voices singing will form a deafening choir and maybe they will start to really hear us. I salute you, sister.
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Good for you for writing this, and I’m sorry for your experience with these morons. Their behaviour reminds me of how I was treated at school by boys who bullied me. It became a normal day to day thing, which is quite sad on reflection, but alas they were children, and these were fully grown men. I was terrified by their behaviour at first though, as you said it can really hurt someone vulnerable. Then, I just sort of had to learn to ignore them. All, they want is a reaction from you. So if you show them you’re not intimidated that can help I found. I remember I actually, after years of being bullied, one day just retaliated and brought up the fact that my bully that day had short man issues (which he did) and that helped. But it took me years to build up the courage and I had started having panic attacks and fainting from stress too. So you know, treating people this way has an affect.
What complete twats they were! Can only hope thet get some payback soon 😦
BTW, don’t ever do the ‘keys in your fist’ thing, it’s less than useless…
Totally disgusting behaviour, so intimidating and horrible for you to experience. I truly hope you never have such an experience again. Creeps – a very polite word for them x
You are brilliant, bold, beautiful and just generally amazing. It’s attrocious what they did to you and i hope they are dealt with. So proud of you for standing up to them.
Awful story well told. I’m really sorry this happened to you, but you handled the stupidity like a champ. I hope this gets reprinted in a major news outlet.