Commute and the Pointed Pain of Being a Woman in Public

Trigger Warning: alcoholism, sexual harassment, sexual assault, misogyny - this review also covers some of these topics.

I honestly don't know where to start with this review. As my wrap-ups go, I'm going to relate it to my own experience so buckle up, babes.

This book brought up a lot of feelings I have had about commuting to work when I lived in Chicago. Once my friend from summer camp met me in a park in the West Loop and told me she was moving from NYC to Montana. She got tired of seeing men masturbate on the subway and tired of being desensitized to all kinds of terrible shit.

Fast-forward a few years later, I am on the blue line on Halloween when everyone is filming and yelling at an old man facing my direction that is masturbating. He eventually gets booted off the train - by my fellow commuters, not the conductor - and I hopped off and directly onto another car where I saw a friend of mine also on her way to our job.

I wasn't wearing anything scandalous, my job uniform at the time was actually quite geeky for such a "hip" bar but no matter what as a woman on public transit, you always feel naked. I had a roommate that would only ride in the front car, directly behind the driver, to feel the safest. I had another roommate that got violently hit with a backpack on the back of the head after she got off the train.

This book illustrates the complexity and pain of being a woman in public, specifically, but also in private. It illustrates how binge drinking is a way to numb that feeling, and how sometimes that goes hand-in-hand with sleeping around. It's a hard book to read, but it spoke to a lot of what I've personally gone through. I highly recommend it.