A Girl’s Right to Pepper Spray

Last night my friend Claire requested I share my myriad of pepper spray stories. Yes that is stories as in more than one. It’s plural bitch. To be totally honest, I never knew my  few routine self defense encounters were a big deal. Once my friends started insisting I tell the stories to friends and family and I saw the reactions I finally realized these predicaments were not the norm.

How does one have multiple mace encounters you ask? To say I was trigger happy in my younger years may be the biggest understatement of all time. I’ve never been into experimental drugs, roller coasters or any kind of adrenaline rush in general. I am consistently one accelerated  heartbeat away from a panic attack so I have never pursued any elective rush. However, given the opportunity to mace someone I always rise to the occasion. It’s kind of one of my favorite things about myself. Here is my truth; In my short quarter century of a life, I have maced 4 people on 3 separate occasions. It all started when I left the comforts of my Los Angeles suburban neighborhood and headed to San Luis Obispo for my first year at college ( I know, what the fuck was I doing in SLO… that town is way too wholesome for a girl like me) my parents had equipped me for any and all kinds of freshmen year predicaments. After settling in and realizing I may be the only Jewish person in the entire town, believed strongly in daytime sequins and the fact that I had never seen livestock in the flesh (Lorde tribute) that I may be a bit out of my element. In my head I was destined for the following; theft, rape and the worst of all… recycling. It’s a quaint town with the nicest people and such high regard to nature and it’s creatures … so clearly I didn’t belong there. I was consistently so paranoid and carried mace in every one of my handbags. I would walk around my apartment complex filled with bay area transplants reading their community college syllabus, smoking weed and just being “hella chill”. I am most comfortable in extreme neurosis so this habitat change mixed with serious home sickness made for a really interesting combo. Basically, I was a total haute mess my freshmen year and not in a good way. I blame my pepper spray incidents on low serotonin levels,my boyfriend breaking up with me 1 week prior to moving and inherent paranoia. At that point in my life whipping out my hot pink bedazzled pepper spray was as common as my routine CVS run to pick up laxatives.

The first time I maced someone I was walking back to my building with 2 friends from our first college football game. The sun had barely set and the streets were filled with a bunch of drunk kids in jerseys celebrating the win, myself included. Obvi, I had my mace with me and when we decided to avoid the foot traffic and take a short cut through a field. As we walked through some bushes near the parking lot 2 drunk guys jumped out at us and screamed “BOOOO!!!!!”… I am sure they really regret that now. I literally had my mace out in one milli-second and maced those fuckers so hard it was incredible. They immediately fell to the ground and were holding their eyes and screaming “What the fuck is wrong with you. You cunt!” So then I went in for round 2. Obviously. I felt so powerful and in control which is ironically my favorite combo. It wasn’t about seeing them in pain (kinda) it was knowing I had complete control in any possibly threatening situation. During a time when I felt so out of control, I found immediate comfort and reliability in that little magic spray.

The second time I maced someone it was a pleasant fall afternoon, I had just gone on my routine “stalk-walk”. A “stalk walk” is when you glam yourself up and intentionally cross paths with an ex-boyfriend. I knew he would always head to the cafeteria around 11 so I would conveniently jog around the perimeter in a sports bra and full make up until he saw me… cause I’m casual like that. On this particular day when I ran into him he was with some girl. He awkwardly asked how I was without introducing me to his new waspy looking hooker. After about 2.5 minutes of incredibly forced conversation I started to get pissed… is he serious? He dumps me one week before I plan on going to college with him and he acts fucking embarrassed of me? He is a handsome kid but aesthetically I felt I brought more to the table at the time.  “Hi I am Jackie… we used to date for about 3 years. We just broke up, but I have a new boyfriend so we are totally cool now. Ok bye!” Smooth and blatantly untrue. I headed back to my building feeling like the most pathetic loser of all time. I was so upset and beyond that so fucking mad. Some guy caught up to me and asked if he could run with me. He was wearing a beanie in 80 degree weather which instantly peaked my paranoia. I told him I was headed home and he just kept following me and asking if he could come over. I asked him to leave me alone and he said “It’s a free country. I can walk wherever I want to” and silently walked behind me. Don’t tussle with a tiger boy. Fighting back angry tears and listening to this stupid fucks shadowing footsteps behind me I reached for my pepper spray. As I turned right onto my street and he followed I whipped around like fucking Sailor Moon and sprayed him right in the retinas. I didn’t feel too guilty… he was a fuck head and I was very veklempt. PS don’t wear beanies in 80 degree weather. Duh.

The third time I maced someone I had a small lapse in judgment and would prefer not to go in detail cause I actually feel really bad about it. It was really late, I was slightly intoxicated and had the sudden urge to try an unchartered fast food restaurant. I got a bit lackadaisical with the trigger lock on my bedazzled pepper spray and accidentally half maced my designated driver. Our brief friendship ended after that night and if you are reading this Shawn I am really sorry. Kisses.

Haute Mess Lesson: Never hide in bushes and scare people unless you are looking for trouble. “Stalk Walks” should only be performed with extreme mental stability. And nothing good happens past midnight at a fucking Arby’s. Also don’t order the roast beef sandwich cause it is next level overrated…


9 thoughts on “A Girl’s Right to Pepper Spray

  1. A says:

    People jumped out and scared you and you sprayed them. Then they swore at you and instead of apologizing profusely you spray them again for vindictive satisfaction against people that never harmed you or intended to hurt you in any way. You’re worthless as a human being. I can only hope that someday you’re obviously crippling psychological problems lead you to kill yourself so you stop being a bet negative in the world


  2. Kelley says:

    You bitch! I am chronically ill… physically, not just mentally. I spend most of my time bedridden. Your blog has given me a reason to wake up in the morning (but not get out of bed.) My only complaint is your excessive use of profanity. Now I may have to add ‘tourette syndrome’ to my long list of ailments, unfortunately. (or fortunately- I don’t have a lot going on in my life.) Thanks for all the laughs, you crack me up! 🙂

    • headbitch says:

      Hi Kelley, I am so happy to keep you laughing! I would say I will try to cut back the profanity but I am so past any form of censorship and it would just be a lost cause. Hope you are feeling better soon and I am always open to new post suggestions! XO

  3. SOMEONE says:


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