Many years ago, Marash Girl was living in the Bronx with her cousin, Richie, and her Auntie Gohar. She (Marash Girl) would travel by bus to work every morning, the bus from the Bronx to Yonkers (New York, of course!) On one very busy morning, Marash Girl felt something strange down around her legs (those were the days when women wore longish skirts); she reached down and pulled up a man's hand! Looking at the man next to her, whose hand she was now holding high into the air, she shouted, "What was your hand doing under my skirt?" His answer? "That's not my hand!"
From that day forward, Marash Girl carried knitting needles in her bag, needles which were very visible stretching their necks well over her bag. That was the secret! Never again did she have a problem with folks getting too close to her during rush hour!