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PPS: Perverts, Peeping Toms and Skeevy Old Men

May 10, 2012

Essays for Giggles

Every woman, young or old, fat or thin, pretty or plain, has at some point in her life been the object of unwanted affection from Perverts, Peeping Toms and Skeevy Old Men (PPS’s).

Considering the fact that even an average woman cannot escape this inevitable fact of life, I cannot imagine what beautiful women, with rockin’ abs and an awesome rack must go through.  Poor things.

Many of my most traumatizing PPS experiences happened while on duty at a variety of shitty jobs I had when I was younger.

My first job ever was at Bressler’s Ice-cream at the local mall.  I was “let go” after a couple of weeks, so that the owner’s horny teenage son could hire my beautiful girlfriend.  Seriously.  This is not paranoia.  She stopped by to talk to me one night.  Pimple face jerk-off later said, “who is your friend?” and lo and behold, two weeks later she was serving ME chocolate chip mint on a sugar cone.

One of my other many crappy jobs was at a restaurant called Jerry’s – which is now a defunct chain, I hope.  At least the location I worked at has been plowed under, thank God.  Me and my friends would wait tables in this disgusting, low rent restaurant, kind of a ghetto Denny’s – if you can imagine a place MORE ghetto than Denny’s  – and these skeevy old men would hog our tables, drinking coffee literally for HOURS, and would make sly sexual innuendos every time we walked by.

Eeew Gross.  First of all, I am young enough to be your granddaughter.  Second of all, should I actually be in the market for a sugar daddy, you are some poor old redneck farmer who has nothing to offer me but a life of misery, hoeing potatoes out of the rock hard ground – what a lovely offer– thanks – but no, thanks.

At one point, in my dubious employment with this trashy little chain, the advertising slogan was “We serve you right!” and we were told by our white trash managers, that when we checked customers out, we had to say, “Did I serve you right?”  I refused to do it.  I mean seriously.   I am 20 years old and already have a problem with these clowns and you want me to utter such a sexually loaded phrase as “Did I SERVE you right?”  Over my dead body.

Since I needed the job, I employed a defense strategy of mostly avoiding the cash register when managers were around.  I did not know how to flirt with boys my own age for God’s sake, I sure as hell did not know what to do when Grandpa was leering at me like a leg ‘o lamb on a spit.

After that I worked at a convenience store for a while, where occasionally, I got the pleasure of working ALONE – on the third shift.  Sounds like a fun opportunity for a young girl doesn’t it?  A chance to be raped, murdered AND sold into the sex slave trade all in one night.

So, one evening, a regular customer from the trailer park behind the store came in about 1 a.m.  Oh, and this was a day and time in the mid-eighties, in po-dunk Bowling Green, Kentucky, that they sold pornographic magazines right out on the open shelf of a neighborhood convenience store.

Seriously, I have NO PROBLEM with porn, in context, but while I was legally an adult, I am not sure, looking back, that I would consider a 20-year-old girl to be selling Biker Chick Dicks at 3 a.m. to Jo Schmo to be a good idea.

Oh, but it gets better.  So my frequent customer, comes in, wanders the store, then stops at the magazine rack for a good look-see.  A couple of customers come and go but he never moves from his reading spot.  He seemed nervous and glanced around a lot, looking after the other customers and keeping tabs on me.

Finally, after about an hour of this shit, my slow-ass finally figured out that he was masturbating at the magazine rack thirty feet away from me.  Being the woman I am now, I might have shouted, “hey asswipe, put that tiny shit back in your pants and get the hell out of my store before I call the cops”, but I was paralyzed with fear and embarrassment and I pretended not to notice while he “finished up.”

Then, I swear to God, on his way out, he grabbed a couple of napkins off the top of the donut case to clean his hands.  Think about that the next time you get yourself some convenience store Krispy Kreme.

A few years later, I headed down to Daytona Beach, Florida, to live with some girlfriends.  I was told the week prior to my arriving, that there was a crazed Peeper in the neighborhood, who had made it all the way into my friend’s bedroom.

She woke up to find him standing in the middle of her bedroom  – her roommate had apparently not locked the front door – with a t-shirt over his face, his shorts down and his dick in his hand.  So she yelled at him and threw some shit at him and he ran off.  Very brave, I thought.  I might have just huddled under the covers until he was done, then offered him some hand sanitizer.

Fast forward to a week later and okay, I thought that was scary, but I figured he had moved on.  The very night that I drove in from a solitary 13-hour road trip, that I could not do today if my life depended on it, we were sitting on the ground floor patio after dinner.

The patio was surrounded by a concrete retaining wall and 4 foot tall shrubs.  So, my friend was ready to go to bed and I decided that I would stay on the patio awhile, winding down from my long day by reading a magazine.

My friend came back out to tell me goodnight and then She started looking over my shoulder and screaming “GET OUT” and “GO AWAY” and by the time I realized she was not screwing with me and that something really was behind me in the bushes, she screams at me to run and as I stand up to head inside, she slams the glass door and throws the lock.

I am poised in mid-run, looking like Wily Coyote, smashed flat by a truck.  I have yet to look back, my arms and legs are akimbo, as I now sprint two feet towards a closed and locked door.   I had one clear moment in which I thought, “OK, this is when you know who has your back… or NOT.”

In her panic, she realized that she locked me OUT with the dude.  She flung open the door and I threw myself in commando style.  We then stood behind the safety of the glass door while we waited for security.

Does this not seem to be more than my fair share of incidences with potential sex offenders and rapists?  But wait, there’s more.

Even having a boyfriend didn’t help stave off the Pervs.  We were once house guests at a large party.  After only overnight guests were left, I stayed downstairs to smoke a last cigarette with a fellow partier.

I had mostly kicked the habit, but occasionally fell off the wagon in the presence of alcohol and tobacco.  So my man is upstairs in bed, while I am chatting on the front porch smoking an end-of-the-night cigarette with the dude I bummed it from, and off I go to bed.

After an intimate session with my boyfriend (now husband), I look up and notice the bedroom door is open.  We sit forward on the bed, look down and see the guy from downstairs, curled up on the floor at the foot of our bed!  He had snuck in our room and was WATCHING US and now he was hiding on the floor!

Instead of beating him to death as we should have, we both ran out of the room to the bathroom to discuss our come-out- kicking-ass game plan.  When we went back to the room, he was gone.

This incident still remains as one of the creepiest moments of my life.

We slept fitfully through the night and left at the crack of dawn with a note for our hosts.  I did not know this guy’s relationship to my friend and worried about causing a rift.  This had been the first time that we had spent the night in her home.  Maybe random, drunken three-ways were the norm at her house.  Maybe that was her brother.  Maybe we had been magically transported to Amsterdam and were on a reality TV game show.  Either way, my future hubby and I wanted out as fast as possible without causing a scene.

One of the advantages to getting older is that this happens to me less and less.  Like never.  I am kinda hoping some pervert does come up to me and make a disgusting suggestion of some sort.  It will remind me of the good old days.

But even with pervs and skeeves, men like the young ladies, despite their own age.  That drunken fart 30 years ago, who leaned over the counter and said, “I’d like to turn you upside down and lick you like a popsicle” is probably still saying those things to 20-year-olds… only, he is now, like 80.

Poor young things.  I do feel sorry for them.  It is not right that they have to suffer such disgusting indignities minding their own business, walking around in the body God gave them.  I can’t offer much advice, except to say, that eventually you will get old too and become wrinkly from that kick-ass tan.  You will not be able to read a restaurant menu without glasses and your FEET will remain a size larger than normal after pregnancy.  Soon things will be looking up!

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About reneadijab

Renea Dijab

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9 Comments on “PPS: Perverts, Peeping Toms and Skeevy Old Men”

  1. grandmalavinia Says:

    At least today’s pervs have internet porn so they don’t have to bother people at 3:00 am or try to catch a live show.

    Reply

    • reneadijab Says:

      This is SO very true! I had not thought of the technological connection! Of COURSE, there are less perverts at the magazine rack because they are home in front of the computer like the Good Lord intended! Thank you for that observation.

      Reply

  2. grandmalavinia Says:

    At least today’s pervs have internet porn.

    Reply

  3. healthyfrenchie Says:

    Haha I love the conclusion of the article. I have to say, I have dealt with and still deal with my share of perverts… Iwish I was better I defending myself, but instead I am always so surprised and stunned, I get all embarrassed and speachless 😦

    Reply

    • reneadijab Says:

      Yes, your share of PPSs will go on for awhile… you are still young and pretty… and I know exactly how you feel… that is always the way I felt!

      Reply

      • healthyfrenchie Says:

        It did make feel better to read that I’m not the only one that does not know how to react in these situation… Any advice on how to change that?
        PS: I’m glad at least no one ever broke into my house! Scary stuff

      • reneadijab Says:

        My only advice is to “be bold”, which is easier said than done. But why are WE the ones who are embarrassed when they are the ones holding their dicks in public? And one is almost NEVER alone in sharing a situation, but you have given me a new idea for a story!

      • reneadijab Says:

        My only advice is to “be bold”, which is easier said than done. But why are WE the ones who are embarrassed when they are the ones holding their dicks in public? And one is almost NEVER alone in sharing a situation, but you have given me a new idea for a story!

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