More pervy creepiness from London weirdos
Honestly, just when I think London can't possibly shock me more, my white noise air raid siren screams and lunatics come flocking to me like iron filings to a magnet.
So, a few days ago I was banging on about the weird cult member/suit man who openly stared at my cans during our business meeting. And this morning while sitting on the tube, some guy must have been channeling a chinese acrobat, in order to contort himself so he could look up my skirt.
I'm beginning to feel very prudish being here, as there are just way too many weirdos interested in only small portions of me and in entirely inappropriate settings.
So, today's moment goes something like this: I'm sititing on the tube, with about 30 others in the carriage, so it wasn't like it was even a subtle move on behalf of the lunatic fascinated with my crotch! And I have knees firmly together, to avoid crotch flashing to the people sitting directly opposite me (just like my mum taught me), when at Camden Town station I notice the person opposite, genuinely sliding down in his chair, til he almost became horizontal to stare up my skirt. And that's not the worst bit, I made eye contact with him doing this, which I would assume would be the normal "fark off mate, you freak and weirdo from hell" check, or at least is in Australia, and he KEPT doing it. AND, as if that's not enough, he had his kids with him!
Seriously, what kind of country am I in where random perviness is a daily occurance?! While I had the occasional guy stare down my top on the train in Sydney, they at least had the grace to look embarrassed when I caught them.
This does at least explain why Hugh Grant didn't move to somewhere like New Zealand after being caught with the strangely masculine looking (is it just me?) Divine Brown in a compromising position all those years ago. Apparently the Brits simply don't have the embarrassment gene, which given the Spice Girls, Jordan and Prince Andrew really does seem incongruous.
I'm telling you, the freakiness of the inbred royal family looks normal compared to some of the people who have attempted to befriend me, or at least been fascinated with parts of me.
And as if my tube friend wasn't enough, yesterday while on Oxford St (near Selfridges, even, so in the relatively posh part of Oxford St) one of those people who work for charities to get cash from you asked me if I'd give him a hug after I'd said no to giving him cash.
So, 3 weeks in the country and already my white noise-ometer is screaming.
Things can only get better, right?!
So, a few days ago I was banging on about the weird cult member/suit man who openly stared at my cans during our business meeting. And this morning while sitting on the tube, some guy must have been channeling a chinese acrobat, in order to contort himself so he could look up my skirt.
I'm beginning to feel very prudish being here, as there are just way too many weirdos interested in only small portions of me and in entirely inappropriate settings.
So, today's moment goes something like this: I'm sititing on the tube, with about 30 others in the carriage, so it wasn't like it was even a subtle move on behalf of the lunatic fascinated with my crotch! And I have knees firmly together, to avoid crotch flashing to the people sitting directly opposite me (just like my mum taught me), when at Camden Town station I notice the person opposite, genuinely sliding down in his chair, til he almost became horizontal to stare up my skirt. And that's not the worst bit, I made eye contact with him doing this, which I would assume would be the normal "fark off mate, you freak and weirdo from hell" check, or at least is in Australia, and he KEPT doing it. AND, as if that's not enough, he had his kids with him!
Seriously, what kind of country am I in where random perviness is a daily occurance?! While I had the occasional guy stare down my top on the train in Sydney, they at least had the grace to look embarrassed when I caught them.
This does at least explain why Hugh Grant didn't move to somewhere like New Zealand after being caught with the strangely masculine looking (is it just me?) Divine Brown in a compromising position all those years ago. Apparently the Brits simply don't have the embarrassment gene, which given the Spice Girls, Jordan and Prince Andrew really does seem incongruous.
I'm telling you, the freakiness of the inbred royal family looks normal compared to some of the people who have attempted to befriend me, or at least been fascinated with parts of me.
And as if my tube friend wasn't enough, yesterday while on Oxford St (near Selfridges, even, so in the relatively posh part of Oxford St) one of those people who work for charities to get cash from you asked me if I'd give him a hug after I'd said no to giving him cash.
So, 3 weeks in the country and already my white noise-ometer is screaming.
Things can only get better, right?!
Juan Carlos
spain again
While your'e about it
Viva l'difference
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Cities dying of thirst.
No, but I turned him down nicely. And he seemed to take it well.
Juan Carlos
spain again
While your'e about it
Viva l'difference
Fire News Blog
Cities dying of thirst.
I have nothing else to report, and certainly if I did, a public blog wouldn't be the avenue I'd choose. Sorry to disappoint. Maybe you need to check out something like www.ratemycameltoe.com, which is not a site I've actually visited, but I'm assuming it's not exactly a book club site.
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If they had shepherd crooks they would have been employed in steering this obviously distressed character towards the steps from which he had stumbled down. I'm sure that they lamented the decline of fire brands as an adjunct to crowd control in recent years.
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It was upsetting for the wardee and myself but I felt that enough interest had been generated by the sympathetic morning crowd - at least enough to ensure that the unfortunate chap would not be teased or tortured.
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I turned to the woman standing on my left and made some - I thought apt for the occasion - comment whereupon she opened her mouth and what sounded like a very angry buzzing sound emanated. Christ I thought! What was in that stuff I took last night? Weird person - nice tits though.
Ahh, just talking about the inner west has made me nostalgic. Is Perama still as good as I remember?
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You're a candidate for me. Anything weird just has to be. Apply at my place, see you soon!
I'm very sorry for your discomfort but your story was very well written and I'm afraid I did have a chuckle at your expense!
I have to say, tho... I dont think it's London.. there's a lot of that in ole Sydney town as well, I guess it depends where you are!
Ps. It's not just you.... (re Divine B.)