I was riding a jam-absolutely-packed metro tonight on the way home when someone decided to slowly put their hand up my skirt. I could barely move, but I shuffled around enough, and the hand returned to its owner. It was pretty obvious to those around me about what had happened. A man in a pin-striped suit pulled me aside to a different part of the train for the remaining two stops. When I got off, another man asked if I was OK.
I guess for every public perv, there are two nice guys (or one perv posing as a nice guy).
I'd already had to watch a few trains pass me by before I could get onto that one. Extra traffic also meant it took me an hour and a half to get home.
Creepy. Not nice at all. I'm so glad the other men were (or man was) helpful. When that happened to me in Mexico City, the hands were on the outside of my clothing and none of the pack of men I was with even noticed.
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