You don't know it, but you reminded me of several different men I've encountered in the past. One of which I actually met on the same bus as we were on tonight. He was at least sober, unlike some of the others - though I'm not sure if that makes it worse or not.

As you sat there, routinely looking back at me and grinning with those dead, booze-soaked eyes, and chatted to the other women and told them how you'd like to have sex with them, I honestly felt like I was going to vomit all over you. It would've been an improvement on the smell, anyway. I didn't hear exactly what you said to me after you asked me "howzit goin' lurv" cause I put my music up as loud as it would go and decidedly ignored the shit out of you.

Then I saw you trying to grab the women you'd talked about sex with. I heard you ask one for a kiss. The older woman laughed it off but I saw her face when she got off the bus, and I saw her tell the driver how pissed you were. I put my keys between my knuckles (to anyone reading this: I know you're not supposed to do that... but it was my safety mechanism for so long that it's somewhat automatic) and glared at you, not once taking my eyes off you except for when it was finally almost my stop - the stop you also got off at ffs.

I was so pumped up and ready to scream, stab you with my keys and make a dash for it. Or maybe just punch you in the dick and run. Despite my readiness for action, I was trembling so hard it was difficult to press the button to signal my stop. I got lucky - you walked the other direction, far away from me, staggering impressively fast. As soon as I noticed that and was off the bus myself, I burst into tears. The adrenaline, I'm thinking, is what made me cry. I won't admit to myself - not yet - that it was the fear that you would secretly turn and follow me home, or the worry that you'd hurt some other young woman like myself who hadn't had the experiences I have.

So yeah, you drunk piece of shit. Get help for the alcohol abuse and stop harassing women on buses.