Part two in the continuing (totally true) sage:
"Blind Molestation Story" part 2!
There was something obviously wrong with Frank. His continuous stream of curses hinted at this - maybe he wasn't taking "special" classes simply because he was blind.
After a while, of course, he stopped screaming obscenities (which, honestly, made me giggle a little), tucked his broken walkman back into his man-satchel, and reached for his blindey stick. With a forceable shove, he lifted his obese, middle-aged body off of the bench down from me and proceeded to walk in my direction.
"Don't make a sound," I thought, "Don't even breathe. You're invisible to them if they can't hear you."
He was tapping uncomfortably close to the benches as he walked along them. If there were people seated on the benches between us (assuming they hadn't tucked up sitting Indian-style like I just had) he would have tapped their feet up good with that stick of his.
He finally reached my bench after crossing two, and began tapping at the right foot of the bench, the direction he was coming from.
Now I don't know if at some point I coughed, or I thought on his swearing fit and chuckled, or I shuffled my body slightly, but upon reaching the edge of my bench he stopped. Stopped cold. I say "stopped cold" because it seems the appropriate way to express it considering how I felt at the moment. I don't like speaking to blind obese middle-aged men, but it makes me feel especially uncomfortable now that I think he's mentally unstable...
"Oh... oh, hello."
That was Frank. He has an uncomfortable way of starting each sentence with "Oh...", as though he knows what he's thinking, but has to think of something to say that won't sound crazy. It's very unnerving. I didn't respond. He can't *know* I'm there right? He's blind after all, and I was being dead quiet.
"...", he said, "... hi, do you mind if I sit here?"
Goddamnit. (Now understand, for the rest of this tale, my mantra was "Don't Offend The Blind Man." I didn't like the situation, I wasn't liking Frank, but he was blind and I did pity him, so I did that in my power to not offend him).
"Uhm, hi! Didn't see you there (giggle). Go ahead, have a seat!"
*** Join us next week folks for the disturbing conclusion to this flight into reality! ***
"Blind Molestation Story" part 2!
There was something obviously wrong with Frank. His continuous stream of curses hinted at this - maybe he wasn't taking "special" classes simply because he was blind.
After a while, of course, he stopped screaming obscenities (which, honestly, made me giggle a little), tucked his broken walkman back into his man-satchel, and reached for his blindey stick. With a forceable shove, he lifted his obese, middle-aged body off of the bench down from me and proceeded to walk in my direction.
"Don't make a sound," I thought, "Don't even breathe. You're invisible to them if they can't hear you."
He was tapping uncomfortably close to the benches as he walked along them. If there were people seated on the benches between us (assuming they hadn't tucked up sitting Indian-style like I just had) he would have tapped their feet up good with that stick of his.
He finally reached my bench after crossing two, and began tapping at the right foot of the bench, the direction he was coming from.
Now I don't know if at some point I coughed, or I thought on his swearing fit and chuckled, or I shuffled my body slightly, but upon reaching the edge of my bench he stopped. Stopped cold. I say "stopped cold" because it seems the appropriate way to express it considering how I felt at the moment. I don't like speaking to blind obese middle-aged men, but it makes me feel especially uncomfortable now that I think he's mentally unstable...
"Oh... oh, hello."
That was Frank. He has an uncomfortable way of starting each sentence with "Oh...", as though he knows what he's thinking, but has to think of something to say that won't sound crazy. It's very unnerving. I didn't respond. He can't *know* I'm there right? He's blind after all, and I was being dead quiet.
"...", he said, "... hi, do you mind if I sit here?"
Goddamnit. (Now understand, for the rest of this tale, my mantra was "Don't Offend The Blind Man." I didn't like the situation, I wasn't liking Frank, but he was blind and I did pity him, so I did that in my power to not offend him).
"Uhm, hi! Didn't see you there (giggle). Go ahead, have a seat!"
*** Join us next week folks for the disturbing conclusion to this flight into reality! ***
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Posting the rest right now.
[Edited on Mar 07, 2003]