Dear [what was your name, again?],
Hi. You might remember me as the girl who said a few words to you at [the bar] last night. You know, about how you date-raped my friend.
I heard an interesting thing today. Apparently, you messaged K to say that you feel “threatened” by me. I never realized there was anything “threatening” about a few passive-aggressive comments. You know what is threatening? 1) Trying to force off a girl’s tights when she’s clearly not interested. 2) Pressuring a different girl to drink so much that she’s incapable of giving (or refusing to give) consent. 3) Continuing to harass both girls, even though neither wants anything to do with you.
When I mentioned what happened with K, your response was “I was pretty trashed, too.” If you rape someone when you’re drunk, you’re still a rapist, much like if you kill someone in a drunk driving accident, you’re still guilty of manslaughter. (Oh, and while we’re on the subject of drunk driving, I’d like to point out that you did that too—after all, you were the one who drove her home from the bar.)
According to the law, sexual contact with a person who is not in a condition to give consent is rape. Calling you a rapist is not a threat; it’s a statement of facts. A threat, however, sounds more like “I am going to kill/hurt/rape/torture/castrate/destroy you.” I have no intention of doing any of that – not because I don’t think you deserve it, but because I’m in medical school and it’s not worth compromising my future for someone as pathetic as you. Rest assured, your body and genitals are safe.
However, I will not play nice when you attempt to make casual conversation with my friends. If you cannot respect their boundaries, you do not deserve to speak to them. Same goes for girls who aren’t my friends. They deserve fair warning.
So in actuality, the only thing I might be “threatening” is your dating prospects. And let’s be honest – you’re not exactly a “catch” to begin with. You’re a forty-something who lives with his mom, a DJ who performs once in a blue moon, and a creeper who drowns girls half your age in alcohol so that you can occasionally get laid.
K, meanwhile, is everything you’re not: smart, fun, pretty. She has friends and a boyfriend who aren’t going to let you treat her like shit. She’s hard-working and compassionate and her patients love her for it—oh, and even though she’s been a nurse for less than a year, she’s already getting her own clinical trial. She’s actually going somewhere in life. I hope you enjoyed your five seconds with K, because in ten years, she won’t even remember your name.
Please leave K and D alone. If you have a problem with anything I’ve said, you can address it to me. Oh, and a word of advice: If you don’t like being called out for rape, try not raping people.
And now that I’ve said my piece, I’m going to go finish my homework and move on with my life.
[Why am I posting this here? Because I'm sick of hearing about people whose lives are ruined by a single instance of rape. Would you be ashamed if someone punched you in the face or stole your purse? Probably not, because you didn't do anything wrong. So why should rape be any different? Why is it your job to feel guilty for something that someone else did?
And yes, I do realize that this letter is somewhat ableist. Not all rapists are unattractive middle-aged men; in many cases, they are more popular and successful than their victims. Does that make them less pathetic? Nope. Taking advantage of someone who is physically weaker than you or incapacitated is never a sign of strength, regardless of your status. It's like beating up a small child--it doesn't prove anything, except that you're an asshole.]