Thursday, August 11, 2005

Keeping the Streets Safe From Wankers

So my friend Tirza and I take the dogs for a walk the other night around my neighborhood. It was after dark, but still early, like 8:30ish. We're having a nice time, enjoying the cool evening air after a hot valley day, gabbing up a storm as girls will do. The streets were pretty empty except for the occasional neighborly wave from someone's yard. When we were just about four blocks away from my house on the way back home, I realize someone has been following us. I look back a few times to make this person aware that I'm aware he's following us, and have the usual comfort that comes with holding the leash that is attached to a ginormous, vicious, snarling beast named Rufus. We quickened our pace, but still the man followed.

Finally, when the man was about 1/3 of a block from us, he called out to us "Hey Lady, I have to ask you a question." Tirza was nervous and said just ignore him, but I felt that the only way to make the guy go away was to answer his question and move along. I turned around and said "What?" He mumbled something incoherently and I again said "what?" By now he was standing at the corner, directly under a street light, mumbling something. Yes, folks, as you may have guessed, he slowly whipped it out and started playing with it, while asking me if my dog was a pit bull or some other mumbling nonsense. Tirza was literally pulling my arm and dragging me down the street by now, but I was pissed. I've had this very situation happen to me several times in my life (a couple of those times when I was a little kid), and it now brings up a severe anger reaction in me. I contemplated turning Rufus loose and letting him go discover a new chew toy for himself. This guy was so eager to share his bone, why not let him share it with the working end of my dog's razor-sharp teeth? I usually give the dogs a biscuit at the end of a walk. Perhaps they would like some perv-sausage instead?

But Tirza dragged me along, and we walked at a brisk pace back to my house, making sure he didn't follow us there. I called the police on the non-emergency number and told them what had happened, where the guy was, and gave a description. Not 10 minutes later, I received a call from the dispatcher (who was female, and very sympathetic), saying they had found a guy in that area and needed a more detailed description, which I gave her -- what he was wearing, facial hair, etc. She confirmed it with the officers, who "rogered" that it was the same guy and they were "holding him, pending a more thorough investigation" and thanked me for my call. Apparently, they don't take kindly to pervs walking the streets of Encino.

Derek said if this had been Venice, where we used to live, the cops would have been like "Yes, AND? Was there a shooting? Are the Crips and Bloods about to throw down? No? Then please don't waste our time."

Let this be a lesson to public wankers everywhere: Public wanking in Encino doesn't pay. Put that shit away and do it at home with your copy of Juggs Magazine.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What is about asking pet questions that makes a man want to wax his board? I can't tell you how many times this same thing has happened to me.Shit like that makes me want to go home & celebrate my uterus.