I experienced that first-hand a few months ago while spending some time at the library with my family.
My husband and child were using the facilities and, while I was waiting for them, a kerfuffle broke out between a burly man and some teenage boys.
Standing up, arms staunchly to his side as if he were carrying two rolls of carpet, the man aggressively accused the teenagers of insulting him. He followed them as they backed away, then began walking up and down the bookshelves and confronting random strangers.
I started playing a game on my phone, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. But I messed something up and an “ugh” escaped my lips.
Like a shark scenting blood, the man whipped his head around and stared at me, his pupils large in his glassy, unblinking eyes.
“What did you say to me, *****?”
It’s funny. As I sit here and recount these events, I can feel my body tensing up just as it did that day. My heart is pounding, my teeth are gritted tightly together and my jellyfish muscles are tense.
My instincts took over. I made eye contact with the man and curled my upper lip in an expression mimicking disdain.
“I’m playing a game on my phone, you dick.”
Oops. He did not like that.
He sauntered closer. I gave an exasperated sigh, exaggeratedly locked my phone, tucked it into my pocket, and then patiently looked back up at him.
“What did you call me, *****?”
I calmly replied, “A dick. I mean, you are yelling at random people in a library.”
“Are you looking for a hiding? I’ll shut that lippy mouth of yours for you.”
Adrenalin pounded through my body, causing small tremors in my tensed arms legs and neck as a little voice whispered in my ear: “Don’t let him know you’re scared!”
The sarcasm came out.
“Oh, wow, you’re so tough threatening a woman a third your size. So brave.”
The barrage of insults that followed is unpublishable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my husband leave the bathroom with our child, take stock of the situation, and walk towards the front counter, where he must have found the security guard who wandered over.
The man called me a “dumb *****” and, carrying his imaginary rolls of carpet under his arms again, walked away.
But it wasn’t over.
That little voice was still whispering in my ear. And, in possibly one of the dumbest moments of my life, I let out a sharp laugh. “Tough guy.”
So dumb.
He spun back in my direction and pointed a finger at me. “I’ll be waiting for you outside,” he said and left.
My husband dialled 111. And that’s when it all came crashing down on me. What on earth was I thinking talking to an obviously dangerous and aggressive man like that? Did I have a death wish or something? My whole body began to shake.
We decided to wait until the police showed up but, after half an hour of waiting, we needed to leave.
Unfortunately for me, we’d parked quite far away to avoid paying for parking, so I walked the entire way back to my car trying to look casual while turning my head in every direction to see if the man had indeed waited for me. He had not, thankfully.
I’m just one person, one who only comes to the Tauranga CBD on rare occasions, and this is the second time in recent years when I’ve been put in a scary situation by a threatening stranger.
And that’s why, when I saw a comment from Tauranga commissioner Anne Tolley in a Bay of Plenty Times article this week about parking in the CBD, I saw red.
The article was angled off a business owner telling the Tauranga City Council the closure of a waterfront carpark could be the “final nail in the coffin” for the CBD. The comment came as a petition was presented to the Tauranga City Council opposing the closure of the carpark on The Strand, which had 147 spaces.
Tolley was quoted as saying: “I have to say, publicly talking constantly about how there are no car parks, how it’s not safe ... that goes into the paper and worsens the situation, actually.”
She went on to say: “I have been to functions at night and never had a problem finding a car park.”
In my view, we who share our stories with the media, as beleaguered business owners have been doing during the extensive Cameron Rd roadworks and the ongoing issues with parking in Tauranga CBD, do so because we want our experiences and fears to be heard.
Yeah, maybe Tolley’s right that publishing these kinds of stories in the media will put people off visiting the CBD. But you know what else I believe puts people off? First-hand experience.
There are good things under way to help the CBD – the civic precinct project, the beautification of the streets, and the construction projects to name the biggies.
But I believe the good doesn’t cancel out the bad and, in my opinion, those of us who have been negatively impacted shouldn’t have to put up and shut up.
For better or worse, my natural response to a threat is to fight. And I believe what these vocal business owners are doing is no different.
Sonya Bateson is a writer, reader and crafter raising her family in Tauranga. She is a Millennial who enjoys eating avocado on toast, drinking lattes and defying stereotypes. As a sceptic, she reserves the right to change her mind when presented with new evidence.
