Yes, please. No, thank you. Get the heck away from me!

Not too many years ago I used to drive for a rideshare company, until a single male rider made me question my own safety.

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When I initially made the decision to drive strangers around to make some money while my two toddlers slept at home, a concern about driving strangers around in my car as a woman by myself was fleeting. As a stay-at-home mom I needed to get out of the house. As a primarily single-income family, we could use the money.

After only a few short weeks of driving a variety of riders, that hesitant little voice that once whispered concerns before starting this gig began to scream at me, but I still had a hard time listening.

You see, one night I picked up a young man from a bar. He was obviously drunk but seemed in good spirits as he climbed into the front seat of my red Hyundai Sonata with a box of leftover pizza.

“He shouldn’t sit in the front,” The Voice began to pester me.

“It’s fine, not everyone sits in the back,” I argued with myself.

My ride share app directed me to the address he requested, but he informed me I would need to drive around to the back of the building through an alley.

“This isn’t right,” The Voice chimed in as I pulled into the dark alley.

“There’s no where to pull over on the main road,” I reasoned and continued until he directed me to the backside of the correct house.

I pulled into the small parking area, thanked him for riding with me, and told him to have a good night. He offered me some of his leftover pizza instead of getting out of the car. I declined. He asked if I would like to come inside with him.

“No thanks, my husband and children are waiting for me to get home,” I said as my chest tightened and I tried to navigate the unexpected situation.

He reached over and turned off my vehicle as he asked me once again to go up with him. The Voice screamed at me to find a way out of this situation. I tried laughing it off and telling him to have a good night once again, but he did not move.

In that dark alley, inside my silent vehicle, The Voice finally broke through the politeness I’d learned over many years. The nervous smile dropped from my face. I straightened my back and firmly informed this intoxicated rider that he would either leave my car or I would call the police.

Thankfully, he only grumbled half-hearted insults to me as he finally vacated my vehicle. I immediately locked my doors and drove away to a well-lit gas station parking lot where I reminded myself, I was safe. Then another ride request dinged on my app.

I did not accept the ride. I logged off the app. I gathered myself, and I went home to my family. I reported the incident to the company, but they could not assure me I would never be matched with this rider again. After a few half-hearted attempts to resume driving, I decided the fear was too great and I never logged on again.

For a long time, I questioned why I was so polite for so long in that interaction. Was it because I was being paid to be there? Had I really just been overreacting? Was it just a cumulation of years of pushing down my instincts to come across as a kind, polite woman?

This instance came back to the front of my mind recently as I watched Woman of the Hour, a 2023 American crime thriller film directed by Anna Kendrick. The movie is based on the life of serial killer Rodney Alcala, who in 1978 appeared on the television show The Dating Game in the midst of his murder spree and matched with an aspiring actress played by Kendrick.

The movie is a little disjointed and many point out discrepancies between actual events and the story written by Ian McDonald. I believe, however, that Alcala’s story acts primarily as a conduit to shed light on an overreaching theme of the dangerous game women must play far too often around men.

During one break in The Dating Game in the movie, an older lady shares a conversation with Kendrick’s character after she changes the way she asks questions of the men. When Kendrick asks if she went too far, the older lady tells her, “No matter what words they use, the question beneath the question remains the same. 'Which one of you will hurt me?'”

That is the question many of us women ask millions of times throughout our lifetimes.

We ask it when we stand alone in an elevator with someone that makes our hair stand up on the back of our neck. We ask it when a nice-looking man buys us a drink in a bar. We ask it when we share our location with our friends before meeting up with someone for a date and jokingly tell one another, “Don’t get kidnapped!” We ask it when we stand face to face with our future spouses at the altar, “Will you hurt me?”

We rarely know.

As I watched Woman of the Hour, I noticed four ways women responded when the answer to this question was “yes.”

They fought.

Many of Alcala’s victims portrayed in the movie grew small and quiet once they saw the shift from friendly stranger to dangerous man. They then quickly moved to a flight response to their circumstance and tried to escape his clutches to no avail, but they tried.

They spoke up.

A young woman in the audience at the taping of The Dating Game responded to the moment her stomach dropped when she recognized Alcala for who he was by speaking up. She told her boyfriend, who dismissed her. She tried to tell someone at the television studio but was brushed off. She kept speaking up, though. She went as far as contacting the police.

They made their own rules.

Kendrick’s character showed the ability to play the game by her own rules in multiple occasions throughout Woman of the Hour.

Despite being a struggling actress barely able to pay her bills, she confidently held a firm boundary against nudity when asked at an audition. Later, when she was told to play the part of a dumb, silly girl on The Dating Game, she once again found her voice in round two.

Instead of asking the nonsense questions given to her, she showed off her bright mind and challenged the male contestants with clever questions. She took up space and made herself known instead of fitting the mold assigned to her for a paycheck.

They played by his rules.

When Alcala attacked a young runaway girl, she survived by asking him to not tell anyone about what happened after she regained consciousness and before he could attack her again. They were on an isolated beach, and she stroked his ego asking if they could move their encounter back to his place. She complimented him as he removed her restraints, and they returned to his car. When she made it to a safe space, she ran and contacted the police.

I cannot find fault in any of these, nor can I say any of them are the best response to that voice in the back of our heads and the bottom of our guts. Each serves a purpose. To all the women reading this, you can trust your gut. Fight, make yourself known, speak up, or play the game. Whatever it is you must do to keep yourself safe is the right response when a man or anyone else answers the question, “Yes, I will hurt you.”

Comments: AnnaMarie.Kruse@southeastiowaunion.com