I went out with a friend of mine to get some fresh air.
We decided to go to Crystal Café, a place we went to often, at around 6 pm.
We sat at a table, not facing the sea, near a window that overlooked Al-Shohada Street and Windsor Hotel.
Just so you know, this street is quite wide with lots of traffic; it's not quiet.

We were surprised when one of the pedestrians—a really large man in his forties—got really close to the window, winked at my friend, and blew me a disgusting kiss in the air.
Both of us were shocked. We didn’t know how to react, but our blood was boiling.
Ten minutes later, the same man walked by, slowed down by the window, and smiled at us.
My friend told him off, and it was like turning on a tap: a stream of horrible curse words came flying out of his mouth.

People gathered around the café, asking what was going on. I told them what he did. “You’re an animal!” I screamed at him.
I was shocked when he took off his shoe and hit me with it twice: once on my arm and once on my face.
I threw an empty glass at him, but it missed.
The next thing I remember was being pulled away from the window by a friend of mine who happened to be there, and people offering me water, trying to calm me down: “Wash where he hit you, so it doesn’t swell.”

I realized he had hit me on my face when I tasted dirt and sand in my mouth, and when I felt excruciating pain in my ears, eyes, and on my face. I still feel the pain now. Not even painkillers make it go away.
To their credit, just so I'm being true to the story, the people at the café and on the street—God bless them—took it upon themselves to beat and humiliate the harasser. They all stood by us. "Good for you!” they said, "You showed him!"
Unfortunately, the man disappeared, so I wasn't able to file a police report against him. I hope the pain goes away, because if it doesn’t, I don’t think I'll be able to recount this story to a doctor.