So, the other day I popped into KFC for a bite to eat, when I spotted the father of one of my best friends from primary school days. He was looking kinda macheted and haggard, and I remembered my Mudda telling me that he had been severely ill with diabetes, but I had never found the time to pass ‘roun to their yard, to hail him up.
When Mr. Man saw me, he face did light up, and he rushed over to give me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Now, not being a touchy feely kinda person, it was a tad bit awkward, as I have a tendency to be very particular about those who invade my three feet of personal space, but, I stood there like a trooper, as he reminisced about old times, and how it was good to see me, all whilst hugging me. Until, his had slipped down and…shall we say…caressed my flicking posterior…!!
Now, have you ever had one of those moments where shock renders you immobile, and you continue to second guess yourself, and it is not until you come into yourself when the perpetrator has disappeared that you actually have an apt response for the episode in question, and two weeks lata you still cussin’?? Then, you turn so bitter, that you set yourself up for when next you see the perpetrator...Den you doh' see dem fi' months???
Well, I had one’a dem! I stood there, immobile stunned, and I lookin’ at the man to see if he hand did slip, or if he miscalculated the location of my back, due to our significant height differential, but alas it was not so. Mr. Man now looking at me with a smarmy look on he face, and now coming in for a’nudda hug. I dress back one time, and as I am known to be quite suspicious and calculating, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, though the ‘doubting’ aspect would not allow me to have him enter the sacred three feet territory again.
Then, to further aggravate me, when I went home and tell me Mudda, is then she choose to inform me seh he was a smarmy man from day one, and I must avoid him where possible. Had she warned me before hand, the man would’a nevah get to cop a feel! Damn pedophile!!
On the opposite end of the spectrum, the other night, I walking through the National Storytelling Festival, when I spotted a friend of Sonny’s . Seeing him gave me a bout of nostalgia cause I can remember when I used to pick him up and arrange play dates with Sonny, and I used to baby-sit him and smack him up the side of his head whenever he did become facetious.
Now, Mr. Man is six foot odd, and having all kinda Adam’s apple popping outta his neck, and he now speaks in a squeaky baritone, that has not yet perfected his range. Sigh. My Sonny goin’ reach there someday.
When Mr. Man saw me, he flew over and stooped down to give me a hug. Remember the aforementioned three feet business??? Note to self: I REALLY need to reinforce that rule more severely. Anyway, being happy to see Sonny’s pal, I hugged him back and prepared to engage in the patronizing adult to child talk, which was not really working out, considering the fact that he was over a foot taller than I am.
When Mr. Man look at me and seh: “Hey sexy…” with a lascivious sparkle in he eye, mi catch mi ‘fraid. What the fcuk?? Can you say Mary Kay Letourneau???
From one extreme to the other…molestee and the potential molester. Makes me wonder if I am at that age where I am neither old nor young, and people from both ends of the spectrum see me as fair game. One end potentially in need of Viagra, wanting a method of reliving their youth, and the young whippersnappers wanting to frolic with the older woman.
Sigh. What is a body to do? You jus’ haffi live.
On that note, I shall now exit.