Wednesday, February 2, 2011

My history with perverts

My grandma has a thing for perverts.

She’s convinced they’re lurking everywhere on the internet, ready to grab hapless victims logging on to check the weather. Surprisingly, she doesn’t see pervert accessibility as a good thing. I tried to explain I’m counting heavily on perverts to boost the sale of my books, but she wasn't appeased.

I do grasp the distinction between fun perverts and creepy perverts, and I know firsthand both types hang out even in internet-free zones. My first exposure (pun intended) to a creepy pervert was at the mall when I was ten. A bald man in a trench coat approached me outside a toy store where I was giggling with a classmate.

“I have the best pantyhose money can buy,” said creepy pervert man. “Would you like to see?”

We actually did kind of want to see, but settled for declining politely and then scampering off to find my parents. To this day, I’m still curious about the pantyhose.

My next memorable pervert experience came in college when I worked as a housekeeper at a budget hotel. There were rules for entering a room if you weren't certain the occupant had left. First, you knocked loudly. After waiting a few seconds, you knocked again and yelled, "housekeeping!" As you knocked the third time, you opened the door, yelled "housekeeping!" one more time, and anchored the door open with a doorstop.

I did all this before marching into room 117 that memorable July morning. As I neared the bed, I froze.

There, in all his naked glory with his baloney pony hanging down his leg, was a middle-aged man with a pot belly and a beard.

I thought he was dead at first. I stood there and stared, blinking in case I’d somehow managed to hallucinate the whole thing. Nope, he was still there. And he was breathing.

Panicked, I backed out of the room, struggled to free the doorstop, and yanked the door closed behind me.

For the next two hours, I avoided the entire first floor. I cleaned rooms at a feverish pace, certain the manager was going to come yell at me for barging in on an embarrassed guest. In the break room at lunch, I finally broke down and confessed to another housekeeper.

“So he was just lying there naked with his eyes closed?” she asked.


“Was this room 117?”

I nodded, not liking the direction of the conversation.

“Yeah,” she said. “You're the third girl he's done that to this week.”

Part of me was tempted to run back down the hall and spray the creepy pervert with disinfectant. I settled for spitting on his toothbrush when he left the room to get breakfast.

I suppose I have to admire the creativity involved in both encounters. If you're going to be a pervert, you might as well do it with an imaginative flair. Lord knows plenty of writing careers have been built around that principle.

Have you had any interesting pervert experiences? Please share.

And please know that if you feel the need to flash me, I carry a camera at all times now.


Tabitha Bird said...

Oh wow! that is creepy! You spat on his toothbrush? LOL! Go you :)

Matthew Rush said...

That poor man. He was probably just really tired, and ... like ... maybe really hot? Like sweaty hot, not attractive hot, though I have to say I have a beer belly and a goatee, and I am very HAWT.

Teri Anne Stanley said...

Oh, I have some good pervert stories, too!
One was in college, first day of spring break. My friends and I were all laying on the beach (Daytona) and a van pulled up next to us. The man got out, opened the side door and got in, leaving the side door open a little. Everyone else was dozing, but I happened to look over, and...yeah. He was taking the baloney pony (*snort*) for a ride. EUUUWWWW!

Another time a man pulled up next to me as I walked down the street and asked for directions. I think he wanted me to stick my hand in the window and touch his map...on his lap...which was moving. Double EUUUUWWWWW!

When I'm feeling fat and ugly, I think back to those wonderful times when I was so lustfully admired by strangers...

lynnrush said...

Oh my word. That IS creepy. Yeah, me and my friend got flashed by some old dude when we were juniors in high school.

Other than that....nothing. And I'm truly okay with that! :)

Jessica Lemmon said...

@Teri - OMG, that is TRAUMATIC!

& Tawna - I love that you spit on the toothbrush - hahaha! and I admit, you do have me curious about those pantyhouse now too...

Linda G. said...

LOL! Okay, I think I now have a deeper understanding of your sense of humor. The seeds were planted early. Oh, and "baloney pony" is my new favorite euphemism.

Marquita Valentine said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Marquita Valentine said...

When I worked for a certain online flower store from home, I received a call from a man who started out completely nice. But ended up asking me did I wear pantyhose, did I rip them off as soon as I got home and then were they moist? Really, moist? EWWWW!

I've never been able to look at betty crocker or duncan hines cakes the same since.

After getting over the shock, I told him to quit being a cheap skate and call a 900 number!

I quit doing inbound call taking after that

Lisa Potts said...

Thanks for that vision of a guy in control tops that I can't seem to shake.

I once took incoming customer service calls at the company I'm at now. I remember one particular conversation I had with a male caller that started with him telling me what a sexy radio voice I had and ended when he asked if I was wearing a garter belt.

Patty Blount said...

When I was young and newly married, I used to sell lingerie for extra money. I did home parties, like Tupperware, except... nighties, not plastic containers.

To drum up business, I put an add in a local advertiser that did very well, except for one call. It was from a man who claimed he wanted to have a couples party.

I advised him that I sold only apparel, not er, toys. He was fine with this.

My husband was not. He accompanied me to the address the night of the "party" and immediately drove away. The address given to me was not a residence, as I'd been told. It was to a strip club.

Strangely enough, my first subway pervert story comes not from my native New York, but from Boston. I was in town for the lingerie company's annual conference and decided to do some sightseeing. While waiting for a train, I noticed a guy on the other side of the tracks. He was wearing gym shorts and managed to er, untuck himself from one of the legs and proceeded to have some happy time.

I stared, quite impressed, actually, until I realized he was staring at me. Then it was just gross.

Emma Petersen said...

I was probably about 11 or 12 and my mom, bff and I were minding our own business and walking back to the car at the mall when this man comes out of no where and flashes us.

My & bff were kinda confused at first but when my mom started laughing we did too. Poor guy, I feel sorry for him now because I mean she really laughed. To the point of tears. He stood there for a while baffled then closed his coat and walked away. I dont know what kind of reaction he was expecting but I'm pretty sure it wasn't that one.

Laura Maylene said...

Emma, your mom is a hero! That is the best reaction ever. What they expect is for the woman to shriek, be horrified, and run away. I think they get off on the power and/or ability to freak a woman out.

Unfortunately, when my college friends and I were flashed while outside a Toronto shopping mall, we pretty much did the shriek-and-run thing. No more, though. I want to be like that chick who pulled out her phone to photograph the guy exposing himself to her on the subway and then post it everywhere online to shame him. He apparently zipped up and got the hell out of there pretty fast. He got the reaction he was looking for...but from himself instead of her.

Brad Jaeger said...

I've worked in a sex shop for over two years now; I could put your pervert stories to shame! ;)

But yeah, fat naked man on the bed. Certainly not the best way to start your day.

Sarah W said...

When I was seventeen, I passed a man who was wearing white sailor pants with the fly open and his tackle flopping around as he walked down the sidewalk. I remember being surprised it was so small. Later, I found out it really was---thank heavens.

Many years later, our library had a patron who would call us, claim he was blind, and ask female librarians to read certain passages aloud from the, ahem, early 600s (he was very fond of David R. Reuben's, er, seminal work) and also from Judith Krantz.

abby mumford said...

My first trip to Italy, I was with a group of 4 girls. We arrived in Venice and hopped on a water taxi. We were taking in the architectural sights when an Italian man positioned himself in front if our two rows and made sure we saw his architectural site. It was undeniably tall but NOT what we came to Italy for....

Amanda said...

Ew! Creepy hotel guy is, well, CREEPY!

Trisha Leigh said...

I'm not sure whether to praise or curse you for your ability to draw word pictures. I, sadly, have no pervert stories. I mean, no creepy ones. :)

Anne R. Allen said...

Oh, I love a cheery pervert story to start the day. Tawna, you're always hilarious.

I was thinking yesterday that our culture did itself a disservice when it struck the word penis from the culturally taboo lexicon. The euphemisms are so much more interesting. Baloney pony being one of the best.

I had a friend who grew up in Manhattan who said she'd seen so many exposed, um, ponys on the subway, she responded this way, loudly--

"Oh, isn't that cute. It's just like a penis only smaller!"

Becky said...

I was once in the emergency room, sick as a dog, and the guy in the curtain across from me whipped it out and started jerkin' the gherkin. I overheard the nurses talking, and he was brought in because someone bashed him over the head with a hammer. I suspect because he'd flashed the wrong person.

Hannah Hounshell said...

Wow, I've led a sheltered life.

The closest I ever came to perverts were the old guys offering me money for sex back when I rode the RTA buses here in dayton.

Keep in mind, I barely weighed 110 pounds and looked like I was maybe fourteen.I didn't tell them my actual age either.


Michelle Miller said...

No really interesting pervert stories, but from the heavy breather call I got when I was 10 (I felt guilty for years afterward thinking I'd hung up on a heart attack victim) to the guy sitting next to me in the book store a week ago making sure I noticed he was reading a sex book, I have to wonder about the thought process that leads them there. But I don't wonder too hard.

I love the toothbrush spitting. Classic!

Malin said...

I had quite a long conversation with a man about selling my underwear. He was in suit, I was in unusually skanky clothes (I'm a jeans and t-shirt girl). He first tried to ask me where I had bought my other clothes, and then about being shaved (you know where) and finally offered me quite a hefty bunch of money for my lingerie. I considered the offer, but had a bus to catch.

I still regret not offering him my ancient, huggy cotton knickers with washed-out skulls. I doubt that was what he expected me to wear...

Patrick Alan said...

This explains a lot about my toothbrush when I am traveling.

warriorwriters said...

Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! Too funny. My first perv experience was when I was 12. My aunt was moving back to Florida, so she was selling all the heavy furniture, including her large queen-size bed. Anyway, she was busy cleaning, and the phone was ringing. I answer the phone and this guy starts asking about the bed and I am answering. Then he asks, "So does the headboard have any pecker holes?" And being all of 12, I ask what that pecker holes were...and he elaborated most graphically. I still didn't get what he was talking about. My aunt must have seen my puzzled expression, because she asked what he wanted...and I repeated the information. "He wants to know if the headboard has pecker holes. That's from when your..." and she tackled me and hung up on him. Took a couple years to get what had really happened.

Great blog! Made me laugh like always.


Suz said...

I'm so jealous! I've never had a pervert experience :O(

Sierra said...

I got an obscene phone call when I was working in my family's bakery/restaurant. He knew what I was wearing and said that he'd been in for breakfast that morning. It freaked me out terribly, and my two male cousins (who ran the place) sent me across the street to work in the coffee shop the rest of the day. My coworker over there was a 6'4" muscle-y Dutch guy who, while being somewhat chauvinistic, was also hyper protective of women.

I never heard from the guy again, and I'm still hoping that it was one of the waitresses' husbands who just got directed to me due to a language barrier with the person who answered the phone...

Sierra said...

Oh! I totally forgot about my bookstore experiences. There was a guy who kept asking me if I'd read the erotica books I was shelving, and who started recommending all of the dominatrix/shoe-fetish ones.

And the old guy who very quietly asked me where the books with "the young ladies" were. He was sweet.

And the perverts who kept leaving the giant "SEX!" books in the children's section.

And the guy who would ask female employees for help just so he could follow them around and try to grope them.

Sheesh. Apparently bookstores attract perverts.

KT Simpson said...

When I was 14, I went to a three week ballet intensive in Austin, Texas. We had to take the city bus and then walk to get to the dance studio from the college we were staying at. One day I had been running a little late, and was alone on the bus to get to the studio. Sitting diagonally in front of me was a middle-aged Mexican man, and every few minutes he would turn around and look at me. Which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. Finally it was my stop and as I passed him, he nudged me and said, "Hey, baby."

That is my pervert story. Not fantastic, but freaked me out all the same :)

Patty Blount said...

My husband reminded me of this story so I'm back with another tale!

Long Island isn't known for it's mountains. But we do have a famous hill. Bald Hill. I've driven past it hundreds of times but never stopped. There's a small park at the base and a Vietnam War memorial. One day, when my son was small, I impulsively pulled in and parked. As I turned off the engine, I spotted a guy stepping out of the woods with his pants undone.

Immediately, I restarted the car and peeled away, assuming he was a degenerate. Watching him in the rearview mirror chasing my car through the lot merely convinced me I was right.

But when I told my husband the story, he burst into laughter. He thinks the guy was just taking a leak and is forever scarred that there's a woman out there somewhere who think he's a first-degree rapist instead.

Guess I was the pervert in this story.

Who knows? Maybe this guy reads your blog and can finally rest, knowing he's been cleared of all imaginary charges.

kmullican said...

I married a self-proclaimed "pro-vert." He gives me endless inspiration ;)

In the late 90's I walked up on a guy in a WalMart parking lot - pleasing himself - leaving the remains on the steering wheel. Super gross. I gagged. Police never caught him.

Caught a friend's husband stealing my panties - from the hamper. I was so embarrassed all I could so is say, "Ooookaaayyy" and turn around. When I confronted my friend - she said he has a whole drawer full of them...don't ask if you don't want to know.

Middle aged woman who follows my husband's band approaches me at each show professing how she wants to "do" me. She frequently feels the need to flash me her sagging boobs. I cannot get her to go away.

And to save the best for last - I saved money for college waiting tables in a truck stop. A guy ordered a hot dog. He came carrying the plate back to me - at waist height - complaining that there was something wrong with is hot dog. Being stupid and 16, I bent down to take a closer look and he - ehem - flexed his dog.

His buddies erupted in laughter. Being the stubborn girl my father raised, I poured the pitcher of ice water in my hand directly on the "dog" and it disappeared along with the bun. XD

m.r. said...

All of my friends are perverted, but in a good way.

From fourteen into my mid twenties I rode horses. I can't remember the exact words, but the pervs had two approaches, one about the size of the horse's dick and the other about what I liked between my legs. (Eye roll)

When I turned sixteen I got a job working fast food and this seventeen year old boy started working there. All he talked about was the things he had sex with to gross out the other girls. The managers knew about this, but really did nothing to stop it. One day he was talking about doing it with a rabbit. I said, "Oh, it's that small then." After that, everybody teased him about his rabbit sized dick. He quit about a month later.

Lets see.... there was the creep who followed me and my cousin through the woods when we were about ten.

I also had a neighbor that professed his love for me after he got drunk. He had some mental issues so I wasn't too concerned, until he started banging on my door at midnight, once with a knife, saying how much he loved me. I relocated soon there after. Oh, yea, he was married and would hit on me in front of his wife!

I had another neighbor who kept trying to get me to go to bed with him and then in the next sentence would ask if I had black friends that I could hook him up.

When I was in Thailand, I got a message- it was a man, but I've had them before an never had a problem. This time, while getting my back rubbed, he started jacking off. I really was speechless and of course left without paying. (I should have demanded he pay me lol)

And my favorite pervert was a woman I worked with. Every time a hot guy came into the store, she'd make a crude sexual comment and then say she needed to go change her panties. She had the dirtiest mouth or anyone I've ever met.

I have an idea for a topic: dirty jokes.

Tawna Fenske said...

Holy @#$% you guys, you're totally cracking me up with these stories! Keep 'em coming!

And thanks for reading!


Lisa Ullrich said...

I have tons, but the first one was when I was about 12. The phone rang and I thought it was my dad's friend, until the guy started asking me what color panties I was wearing. Yeah, so NOT my dad's friend. I hung up and then the phone rang again and it was him again...I didn't answer the phone anymore that day!

HoldenLyric said...


When I was 11, I went to Germany. My sister and my friend (who is now my roommate) and I went down to check out the pool in our hotel. There was one person in the pool. An old man. And he saw us from a distance, and exited the pool. To our horror, he was stark naked, smiling and walking towards us. We ran away screaming and didn't tell our parents until years later.

A couple months ago I was driving and a guy pulled up next to me at a read light, asking me questions like "What time is it?" "How are you?"

I kindly answered the questions, and he proceeded to ask me, "Where are you going," and I quickly thought up a lie and said, "Hollywood". (I live in L.A. and was about 10 minutes away from Hollywood.)

He then asked me "Can I come with you?"

And I laughed, and replied, "No," as he began to offer me money, I kept repeating, "No, thank you." Then he said, "1000 dollars for everything."

So I pulled james bond moves, broke, got in the lane right behind him and made a quick right.

I have so many more, but I feel like I need to shut up now. haha