By skyforbes I’d move away.
He’d “accidentally” brush it.
I told him not to touch me.
He’d smile and say, “It’s just so fluffy.”
I finally had enough.
One morning he reached out again, and before he could touch me I turned around, stared him dead in the face, and said loudly enough for the whole bus:
“If you touch me again, I’ll scream and tell everyone here you grabbed my ass instead of my hair. Which one do you think they'll believe?”
He pulled his hand back like my curls were made of electricity.
The bus went SILENT.
Two women nodded at me. One guy said, “Good.”
Creep man moved to the front of the bus and has never sat near me again.
Now he practically presses himself against the opposite window when I get on.
Turns out all you need to deter a predator is the threat of a reputation accurate enough for consequences.