Panic in the park.

Yesterday afternoon, I took Phoenix for walkies. As we were trotting along casually, me humming Christmas carols to myself and Phoenix prancing in excitement, I heard some shouts and laughter coming from the middle of the park, around the play area. I presumed it was children mucking around, and carried on my carefree way. Until I realized the shouting was coming towards me, not getting lost in the wind. I kept walking, and was grateful Phoenix was so excited he was barking at me to play with him - I'm always kind of under the impression he scares people a little, so growling and barking is usually something I encourage him to do. Still, the shouting followed me - and was getting closer. I had a brief look behind my shoulder, and noticed three guys following me - and as soon as I looked at them, I realized what they were saying. I was alone. There was three of them. I have a vagina. You get the idea. I whistled Phoenix over and put him on lead (yep; still more worried about the welfare of my dog) and quickened my pace while wondering my best option. Stop, and ask them not to be so offensive and most likely get attacked? Set Phoenix on them? Run like the wind? It was at the moment when I realized I didn't have anywhere to go (why was there no football training or people running around the track for once, and no people I could mingle in between?) but that I knew if I had Sahara, I would be fine - and it dawned on me Sahara was back home, shut in the bathroom resting her mangled leg. Feck. I was pretty much power walking at this stage, running through options - here I was, alone, in the middle of a park with no one in shouting distance and most likely if there were, no one that would help me should these guys go through with what they were saying. And then, from behind some trees, came a couple walking their dogs. I aimed straight at them, and made a big fuss of their dogs and trying to keep the owners talking, while the guys came to a stop about 5 meters away. I quietly told the couple I was having some trouble, and as I saw the big rocks the guys had in their hands as I was chatting, I made a break for it. I didn't exactly run - I figured it'd probably make it worse to do so - but damn, did I move my legs. I walked straight through the playground where there were a lot of parents and people around, and managed to find a lady walking a dog near my street who I could walk with the rest of the way. At this point, I realized I was probably over-exaggerating the situation - and then I thought, no. You know what? As big and tough as I like to think I am, I'm really not. Sure, I can give good nipple cripples and drink a lot of guys under the table, but when it comes to three guys - who were carrying large rocks for some reason, and had said they had knives - versus all 55kg of me, I realistically probably wouldn't come out the victor. I know if Sahara had have been there, I wouldn't have been any where near freaked out - those guys would have be devoid of their testicles had they come a step closer, and probably a lot of their limbs, too.

After I got home, gave Sahara a big hug and locked all the windows, I calmed down a bit. And then I got angry. Why do the male species feel the need to have such a power trip over women? There's always the fight for supremacy, whether it's intelligent men thinking they can rule the world better than women of their calibre, simply because they're women, or three dicks in a park thinking they have the right to tell a girl walking her dog on a sunny afternoon they're going to rape her. I started feeling sorry for myself that something that I love - spending quality time with my man on a gorgeous day and not having a care in the world worth worrying about - could be shattered by a man. And then I told Sarah. And spend the next half an hour giggling at her threatening to rip their throats out and grateful for having someone who would defend my honor and fight to the death for me.