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The final part of our story!

The Blind Molestation Story, part 3

So Frank, the obese blind man who is slightly mentally unstable, sits down next to me on the bench. He somehow "spotted" me, in spite of my silence. Well, now I was talking to him, and my goal wasn't to escape the uncomfortable situation, but to not offend the blind man.

"You go to classes around here?" I asked. I knew he did, I'd seen him around.

"Oh.. yeah, I'm taking computer classes... over that way," he pointed. "Do you... do you go to classes here?"

The way he repeats stuff sometimes and says "Oh" may read endearingly at first, but in real life, it comes off disturbing. Every time he spoke, you could tell he was thinking something other than what he was saying. Very disturbing.

"Yeah, I take classes. I'm thinking of majoring in music."

"Oh... oh, you like music? What kind of music ... do you like?"

Damn, he wants to drag this on. Okay, no problem, let's not offend the blind man.

"Mostly classic rock, and a little bit of folk. Cat Stevens, Led Zeppelin... .. what kind of music do you like?" I asked, being polite.

"Oh... you know... Cat Stevens... Led Zeppelin..."

Eek! Something about him regurgitating what I said was very disconcerting. However, not nearly as disconcerting as the fact that slid up to me and had his leg and thigh pressed up against mine. It felt very wrong, but, I thought, perhaps it's a blind person's way of establishing "presence" - that is, since he can't see me, it's a way of establishing that I'm actually always there, even when I'm not speaking.

Let's not offend the blind man.

"Cool... uhm... so, you're taking computer classes?" the leg thing bothered me, but the hand thing bothered me more.

"Oh... Oh... yeah, I'm learning to type... my mom thinks it will be good for me..." The hand thing bothered me a lot. He started feeling down my shoulder with his right hand.

"Neat. How do you like the class?" He eventually worked his way down to my hand, and held on to it. I was sitting on a bench with my peers passing by, holding the hand and cuddled snugly against a middle aged obese man.

Now, again, I didn't want to freak out and make him feel bad. Don't offend the blind man. I figured this was also another "presence" thing. It got a little out of hand (pun!) at this point, and with the cute asian girls giggling at me as they passed, I began to plan my escape.

"Oh... oh.. it's ... it's okay, you know. My mom thinks it will be good for me..."

The thigh thing made me uncomfortable, the hand thing made me reconsider this blind man's agenda, but what happened next... Frank was holding my hand, and he was practically straddling me, right? Okay. He pressed his hand (which was on top of mine) firmly against his own thigh.

"Say, Frank, uhm..."

This is when it really went too far. As he was holding my hand against his thigh, he began to rub it against it. Rub my hand, against his thigh, and move it closer to his crotch.

"WHOAH! Look at the time! My ride has probably been waiting for a while. Uh, see ya!"

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Epilogue:

So I missed Frank's crotch by about an inch (well, I wouldn't say I "missed" it). That doesn't change the fact that he straddled me, he held my hand, and rubbed my hand around his erogenous zone. I don't know whether his being blind made it any worse, but it certainly is what made it possible for him to get as far as he did.

I'm sorta traumatized, but the funniness of the whole situation, in retrospect, makes it bearable. Plus, it's a good story - or at least I hope it is, because I otherwise I wasted 3 posts on it. I would normally say "Poor Frank, he's blind and unstable... it's not his fault..." but screw that. I was sexually molested by a blind man, and I didn't see it coming.