I've only been "accosted" once in my life. Oh, I've been whistled at and some naughty things yelled at me, but I'm talking full-contact accosting.
I was about 15 and had to go to the main library for some research for a report. I was down in the basement in the "stacks" trying to find a book I wanted when a man, perhaps in his 30's, came down the aisle toward me. As there wasn't a lot of room between the shelves, I got close to the shelf to let him by, turning my back to him. Instead, he pressed me against the shelf with his body and rubbed against me for a few seconds.
I was so shocked that I simply couldn't let out a squeak. After a couple of seconds, he released me, chuckled a nasty sort of laugh and sauntered slowly down the aisle. I was absolutely paralyzed. I could not move. He didn't even look back at me. It was like he knew that I wasn't going to scream.
It seemed like forever before I could get my legs to move and flee the basement. He was nowhere around when I went up to the main floor and I was too embarrassed to tell anybody what had happened. I never even told my parents or any of my friends. I never went to the basement of the library again. If I couldn't get the book I needed on the main floor, I didn't get it.
Why I was "embarrassed" I don't know. I think that sort of predator recognizes his victims and knows they're not going to make a fuss.
Nowadays, if someone tried that with me, he'd be wearing his *******s as a necktie. But as a very innocent 15-year-old, I had no way to cope with something like that. I don't feel that it deeply scarred me for life or anything like that, but it sure was upsetting at the time.