On The Hunt With The Grope Police

Theres a secret police force whose job it is to keep you safe from sexual predators on public transport. CATRIONA INNES went along for the ride.

- Catriona Innes

Excuse me, Miss, can I ask if there was anything odd about your journey today?”

The girl looks hesitant. Confused. She frowns, as if she’s thinking of the right answer.

“Umm,” she pauses. “Something did keep poking into my bum... an umbrella, maybe?”

You might have felt an “umbrella” at some point in your life. Or maybe the corner of a “bag”. At certain times of the year, perhaps “a roll of wrapping paper”.

When you’re on a rush-hour train or bus, your fellow commuters packed in around you like (angry, honeyless) bees in a hive, it can be hard to tell. So you ignore the persistent prodding in your left bum cheek, or the top of your thigh. You ignore the little voice in your head that says “this isn’t right”. You convince yourself that you’re wrong, it isn’t what you think it is, and even if it is – hey, it’s a busy train, you’re sure he doesn’t mean to…

Sometimes you might be right. But for this girl, standing on this platform, the rumbling of Tubes interrupting her conversation with a police officer at 6.20pm on a Wednesday, it was no umbrella.

I knew this sort of stuff happened. That there are men who rub their erect penises on unsuspecting women on public transport. I’ve lived in capital cities my whole life (first Edinburgh, now London) – it’s a running topic of conversation among my friends. But we thought that these men were chancers, taking advantage of the close proximity a commute offers them. We also thought that there was nothing we could do about it, that it was part and parcel of our daily journeys. Sometimes you get an armpit in your face, other times it’s a penis on your leg. Hey-ho!