We can't EVER walk in a crowd without fearing getting felt up, brushed against or rubbed against by a member of the male species. So, if we've decided to walk in a crowd, we've pretty much given up any dignity we possessed till that moment. So when you feel that strange guy pressing his entire body against you and you're literally crushed from all sides, you have to quell the indignation rising within you and just sigh, awaiting your final destination. And you get to make jokes about it, which helps too.
We can't give lifts to strangers. I don't like taking my gigantic car around if I'm travelling alone in the city, but I don't have much of a choice since, well, I'm alone again. Several times, I see people requesting a lift - always men, of course. I feel bad for these people. Here I am, driving by in a diesel guzzling wagon that can hold upwards of seven people and I can't even give them a lift because they might rape / kill / rob me. They brought it on themselves, really, the men did. I do however cheerfully give lifts to schoolchildren whenever I can and it's always fun to hear what they think of the tiny woman driving the big car with dents and scratches all over it. Really.
We can't walk around without covering ourselves up to our necks unless we want to feel like our breasts are now on display for public viewing. Even a teensy hint of cleavage can send men into a sick frenzy where they stare down every opportunity they get (which in a bus is the whole trip) in the hopes of god knows what. Are you waiting for the top to disintegrate with the force of your stare? Perhaps the heat of your lust will burn it off? Do you really get off with seeing the divide between two breasts? Then why don't your cousin brother's moobs get you off as well?
Yet, we are quite happy to force our way through crowds and gawking teens and strangers who try to paw us. What choice do we have, really?