The low, rumbling voice behind me in the subway stairs tonight was barely audible, and I was astounded by its icky suggestion once I understood. Fight or flight? When I reached the sidewalk, I stepped aside to see what cretin was saying this. He turned off the bright boulevard onto the same residential street I needed to take. After a few yards opened up between us I resumed my walk, passed him and again he said what he must have thought was suggestive talk. Now, I was tired and hungry and had a broken a nail, so I exploded, flinging every vulgarity at him, pointing, threatening to call the cops. When I get really angry my voice goes all urban, but it worked. He scurried away like the cockroach that he is. A dignified-looking man was nearby and I felt compelled to apologize if I was offensive, explaining that the creep “needed to be told off.” The nice man agreed and I safely continued home, feeling a little bigger and prouder with every step.