Slippery Slope?

Over the past few months there have been 12 attacks on women in Brooklyn. Specifically in and around the neighborhood of Park Slope. Where I live.

According to Wikipedia, "Park Slope is considered one of New York City's most desirable neighborhoods. In 2010, it was ranked number 1 in New York by New York Magazine citing its quality public schools, dining, nightlife, shopping, access to public transit, green space, quality housing, safety, and creative capital, among other aspects".

I have made a point of avoiding the growing anxiety. Not because I consider attacks on women walking to their homes to be trivial, but because I refuse to let someone make me feel scared to walk the streets. That's its own brand of attack. And one I can fight.

So, I have continued to go on my run around Prospect Park at dusk, which is coming earlier and earlier as the Autumn makes itself known. The newspaperman I live with doesn't like this one bit, but I tell him there are many other runners, and cyclists and skaters and parents walking their children. And now the occasional police van. And I'm fine.

Except last night on the hill near the end of the track I got a cramp, and had to take myself off to the side for a minute to stretch it out. And I wasn't fine. It was dark and I was creeped out. And as men approached on their runs, I tried to memorize their features, 'just in case'.

I was back running in a matter of seconds, and I made it home. (In record time). I decided to say nothing to the newspapermen; weary from a day spent poring over photos capturing the world at its worst.

Instead, we ate leftovers and headed out to a bar around the corner, to join friends for a Trivia night. It was an impromptu invitation, but, being the very definition of 'trivial', seemed like a a welcome distraction.

It was nice and low key. 6 teams playing for the glory of two free drinks a piece. 4 rounds. Round winners would receive shots. Tie-breakers decided by the time honored tradition of "Rock, Paper, Scissors".

Good clean fun.

Until one of the teams decided to name themselves, 'The Park Slope Rapists'.

The Trivia Master could barely bring herself to say their name as she announced the scores after Round 1 ("Current Affairs"), but decided not to make it an issue, beyond gritting her teeth and rolling her eyes every time she was forced to say it throughout the proceedings. Somehow made worse by the fact that they kept scoring very well.

At our table, between rounds, we mused over just how offensive it was, on the scale of 'Misguided to Misogynist'. I landed somewhere closer to the latter. As my friend Mag later pointed out, 'Would it have been okay if they called themselves the Park Slope Racists?'

They say success is the best revenge, and so we had ours by winning the night out from under our dubious competitors in a close but decisive finish. However my personal moment of triumph came when I was forced to face off with the Rapist's team captain in a game of Rock Paper Scissors to determine the winner of Round 3 ("X marks the spot").

In a best of three battle royale that lasted about 8 rounds, I finally beat him with a rock. My teammates leapt up in triumph. There were hugs and cheers and I impulsively exclaimed, 'Rapists never win!'

Except they're still pretty terrifying. So stop joking about it. Please.