The Thing about being an Idol to the whole world, is, you are forced to wear all these lacey skirts and stuff.

But when you're a man, they don't force you to.

They only do it to us women.

I'm walking home and there's a lot of men, looking directly at the bottom of my skirt.

Which, I can only take off when I'm home.

I should just have gotten a taxi.

It would have been way easier.

But, then there's also the taxi driver.

All the taxi drivers here are men.

They all know me, just like the rest of the world.

And that's why there's this guy behind me.

He grabs my wrist and does something to the back of my skirt.

I remember that I mustn't panic.

Now I can apply the lessons of my self-defense class.

I stomp on his foot as hard as I can.

His grip loosens slightly. I twist within his grasp and jab my elbow into his ribs. "Ooof", he cries, and he lets me go.

I turn around and smash my fist into his nose. Then I run home.

At home, I slam the door behind me and quickly lock it.

I strip off that awful skirt and my top. Wearing just my bra and panties, I immediately call my best friend Terri, using my old-fashioned landline phone.

"Terri, this is Alexis. The most horrible thing happened to me on my way home." I then spewed out my tale of woe, hardly pausing for breath.

When I was done, I asked, "Terri, what should I do?"

I was shocked when a man's voice responded, "Oh, Alexis, you poor innocent young woman! What he did is called 'groping'. It was inexcusable behavior. Be grateful that you got away.".

I slammed the phone down. Panic overwhelmed me. I began to sob uncontrollably.