Stupid things we do sometimes
May. 25th, 2007 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
superbadgirlFor some reason, I was just reminded of the night I spent in a train station in Cologne*.
I was travelling with two other women who I would categorize as rather flighty, perhaps unfairly, though to this day I do not understand why they wanted to travel through Europe if they had no interest in museums, architecture and history. It was toward the end of my very first trip to Europe, nearly ten years ago now. All of us were tired and broke and I personally was bordering on homicidal toward my companions. We'd spent several days in a Paris hostel with gigantic cockroaches and naked Australians for company prior to jaunting over to Munich. In Munich, we sprang for a more expensive hotel, which left us pretty much broke. While there, I foolishly went out for a walk alone and struck someone's fancy. He followed me for blocks. But that's another story.
Our plan was to get up to Amsterdam after Munich, and we hopped the train easily enough. The problem arose when we made it to Dusseldorf, about ten minutes after the last train for Amsterdam had left. It was late at night. We walked around the station for a little while, found a schedule to see when the first train out in the morning was, and became increasingly uncomfortable about our surroundings. Since we had no money, we collectively (though I secretly would have rather bit the proverbial bullet and booked a room somewhere, anywhere) decided we'd ditch Dusseldorf and go to Cologne in the hopes the train station was okay enough to camp out for the night.
The train ride over was nervewracking enough, as we were alone on a car until a group of punk kids hopped on and proceeded to feed off our very palpable discomfort. At the time, I remember thinking it was the longest half an hour of my life, an incorrect assumption on my part. We survived. The punk kids got off and I know I started to feel better, and even the station at Cologne made me feel better. It was well lit and wasn't heavily trafficked. This was also an incorrect assumption, by the way. We found a kiosk, plopped down wearily next to it, and attempted to get comfortable for a sleepless night.
All was well for the first hour or so. People stared, an understandable reaction, I think, to three morons camped out with suitcases in the middle of the night. Eventually, though, we were approached by a man who was either inebriated or drugged-out on something. I immediately adopted my stone face and would not respond to anything he was saying (I caught maybe one word in twenty, as my German was and is pretty poor). My companions, however, responded by giggling nervously, and they could not get themselves to stop even though I desperately begged them to get a grip. The man was insistent, and I finally figured out what he wanted. He wanted us, of course. He wanted to pay at least one of us to go with him...and you can guess why.
It was alarming.
However, it was not the most alarming thing about the situation to me. What was alarming was when I noticed that in the midst of this drama, a gathering of about thirty other men had formed a circle around us. None of them made a move or said a word, just watched as this man's very unwelcome advances were rebuffed over and over again, and as his abuses increased in volume and intensity. One of the men watching and enjoying the show was a security officer. Only after I made extended eye contact with the security officer did he come over and get the man away from us. After that, we received a barrage of glares from the security guy as well as the other men, all of them giving us wordless lectures of reprimand and, in my interpretation, disgust.
Because we apparently asked for someone to solicit us just by being there. It was apparently an open invitation, right? Wrong. While I don't disagree that it was a really bad plan, there was nothing about us staying there that warranted abuse, by the first guy or any of those who looked along and did nothing to help.
*I honestly can't remember if we went to Dusseldorf first and then went back to Cologne or if we went to Cologne first and then went up to Dusseldorf...
Needless to say, if I'm ever faced with the choice between spending money I do not have and spending a night in a train station, I'll break out my credit card every time. After the disastrous night, I convinced my companions we needed to go back to Paris instead of on to Amsterdam, because the first time in Paris I didn't get to do anything I wanted. Second time around, I did. I do have a little regret that we didn't go to Amsterdam, but I'm older, wiser and richer now so I'll get there someday.
The trip ended in London, where I was too poor to eat and was left in the hotel room to starve while my companions went out for food and drinks. I believe I called my mother and sobbed like a baby for a few minutes, and then watched Star Trek: Voyager, which only caused the tears to return in full force.
I was travelling with two other women who I would categorize as rather flighty, perhaps unfairly, though to this day I do not understand why they wanted to travel through Europe if they had no interest in museums, architecture and history. It was toward the end of my very first trip to Europe, nearly ten years ago now. All of us were tired and broke and I personally was bordering on homicidal toward my companions. We'd spent several days in a Paris hostel with gigantic cockroaches and naked Australians for company prior to jaunting over to Munich. In Munich, we sprang for a more expensive hotel, which left us pretty much broke. While there, I foolishly went out for a walk alone and struck someone's fancy. He followed me for blocks. But that's another story.
Our plan was to get up to Amsterdam after Munich, and we hopped the train easily enough. The problem arose when we made it to Dusseldorf, about ten minutes after the last train for Amsterdam had left. It was late at night. We walked around the station for a little while, found a schedule to see when the first train out in the morning was, and became increasingly uncomfortable about our surroundings. Since we had no money, we collectively (though I secretly would have rather bit the proverbial bullet and booked a room somewhere, anywhere) decided we'd ditch Dusseldorf and go to Cologne in the hopes the train station was okay enough to camp out for the night.
The train ride over was nervewracking enough, as we were alone on a car until a group of punk kids hopped on and proceeded to feed off our very palpable discomfort. At the time, I remember thinking it was the longest half an hour of my life, an incorrect assumption on my part. We survived. The punk kids got off and I know I started to feel better, and even the station at Cologne made me feel better. It was well lit and wasn't heavily trafficked. This was also an incorrect assumption, by the way. We found a kiosk, plopped down wearily next to it, and attempted to get comfortable for a sleepless night.
All was well for the first hour or so. People stared, an understandable reaction, I think, to three morons camped out with suitcases in the middle of the night. Eventually, though, we were approached by a man who was either inebriated or drugged-out on something. I immediately adopted my stone face and would not respond to anything he was saying (I caught maybe one word in twenty, as my German was and is pretty poor). My companions, however, responded by giggling nervously, and they could not get themselves to stop even though I desperately begged them to get a grip. The man was insistent, and I finally figured out what he wanted. He wanted us, of course. He wanted to pay at least one of us to go with him...and you can guess why.
It was alarming.
However, it was not the most alarming thing about the situation to me. What was alarming was when I noticed that in the midst of this drama, a gathering of about thirty other men had formed a circle around us. None of them made a move or said a word, just watched as this man's very unwelcome advances were rebuffed over and over again, and as his abuses increased in volume and intensity. One of the men watching and enjoying the show was a security officer. Only after I made extended eye contact with the security officer did he come over and get the man away from us. After that, we received a barrage of glares from the security guy as well as the other men, all of them giving us wordless lectures of reprimand and, in my interpretation, disgust.
Because we apparently asked for someone to solicit us just by being there. It was apparently an open invitation, right? Wrong. While I don't disagree that it was a really bad plan, there was nothing about us staying there that warranted abuse, by the first guy or any of those who looked along and did nothing to help.
*I honestly can't remember if we went to Dusseldorf first and then went back to Cologne or if we went to Cologne first and then went up to Dusseldorf...
Needless to say, if I'm ever faced with the choice between spending money I do not have and spending a night in a train station, I'll break out my credit card every time. After the disastrous night, I convinced my companions we needed to go back to Paris instead of on to Amsterdam, because the first time in Paris I didn't get to do anything I wanted. Second time around, I did. I do have a little regret that we didn't go to Amsterdam, but I'm older, wiser and richer now so I'll get there someday.
The trip ended in London, where I was too poor to eat and was left in the hotel room to starve while my companions went out for food and drinks. I believe I called my mother and sobbed like a baby for a few minutes, and then watched Star Trek: Voyager, which only caused the tears to return in full force.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-25 09:49 pm (UTC)I can't help but be reminded of the honor killing that's being discussed around the net - men standing around and filming it with their cell phones, and some security personnel also just watching. Because if a stoning gets out of hand, you want to get control of that situation. But as long as it's just a well-behaved stoning, well, that's all right then.
*shakes head*
And just since this is public and anyone might read it: we are not immune from similar behaviors here in the US, or in England, or in any part of the world. It's not religion that's wrong, or culture, or men; it's just assholes.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 05:45 pm (UTC)It bothers me to this day, those guys circling around and just watching, and that once their entertainment was over the sheer disgust I read in their expressions...the whole thing defintely changed my perceptions.
And, hell yes it can happen anywhere. *thinks back to a bus stop incident, in which everyone watched surreptitiously while some dude got in my face and in my space*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 05:48 am (UTC)It makes me wonder what I'd do. Would I be brave or chickenshit?
no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 05:50 pm (UTC)