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I had to go to the supermarket yesterday. There was a man there about 55, 5ft10, average build and with curly steel-grey hair. His clothes that said it had been a lot longer than just Covid-19 since he last took any actual pride in his appearance. That said, he was clean.
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Any woman who& #39;s spent any time around men & alcohol becomes skilled at identifying those men more likely to cross boundaries.
It& #39;s not cued by their outfit, it& #39;s something in their expression.
As you get older the threat appears less often, but you never forget that face.
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It& #39;s not cued by their outfit, it& #39;s something in their expression.
As you get older the threat appears less often, but you never forget that face.
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I had to get strawberries. It was on the list for someone I was shopping for (who is isolating with symptomatic relatives).
There he was, standing in the middle of the aisle. Just waiting for someone to inconvenience.
I dodged and went for cheese next.
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There he was, standing in the middle of the aisle. Just waiting for someone to inconvenience.
I dodged and went for cheese next.
3/
One of two things happened next. Either he decided that in defiance of the supermarket layout and all probability he also needed cheese right then... Or... He was bored enough to hang on to the possibility of a thrill.
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I gave him the slip a second time by taking a route the wrong way round and back the direct way between the strawberries and the cheese.
Check. His move. If he follows now, he& #39;s got no cover. It would be blatent. He& #39;s got to walk away. So he wanders into the socks aisle.
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Check. His move. If he follows now, he& #39;s got no cover. It would be blatent. He& #39;s got to walk away. So he wanders into the socks aisle.
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2 things you should know about this kind of creep (that if you are a woman you already do know on some level):
1. They& #39;re invested in setting up their transgressions, to claim it as an accident. That& #39;s part of the thrill.
2. They pick their targets by vulnerability. Always.
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1. They& #39;re invested in setting up their transgressions, to claim it as an accident. That& #39;s part of the thrill.
2. They pick their targets by vulnerability. Always.
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What signals would I have had of vulnerability?
Mask and gloves. Alert bordering on hypervigilance. Fast breathing. Dodging like my life depended on it (no shit). That& #39;s partly because I am stunningly unfit, also because I tend to be a worrier.
Enough bait for a creep.
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Mask and gloves. Alert bordering on hypervigilance. Fast breathing. Dodging like my life depended on it (no shit). That& #39;s partly because I am stunningly unfit, also because I tend to be a worrier.
Enough bait for a creep.
7/
Third time I dodge him he& #39;s coming out of cosmetics, not far from socks, between chocolate where I headed and strawberries where I still need to get.
From over the mask I give him the "one more word and I lose it" blazing parental glare.
He freezes. I evade via an aisle.
8/
From over the mask I give him the "one more word and I lose it" blazing parental glare.
He freezes. I evade via an aisle.
8/
I get strawberries, completing the given list. I relax.
There& #39;s nothing I need now. I might seek some treats for me, but my duties are met. There are few people up the back corner as I start working my way round to crisps.
My shoulders slacken. I walk less stiffly. It& #39;s ok.
9/
There& #39;s nothing I need now. I might seek some treats for me, but my duties are met. There are few people up the back corner as I start working my way round to crisps.
My shoulders slacken. I walk less stiffly. It& #39;s ok.
9/
Then boom, almost at crisps and out he pops from the end of pasta like a freakin video-game zombie.
The far end of pasta is where the back aisle is narrow. To make it worse there& #39;s a cage of stock to be unloaded right in the way and a young couple browsing spices.
Oh No!
10/
The far end of pasta is where the back aisle is narrow. To make it worse there& #39;s a cage of stock to be unloaded right in the way and a young couple browsing spices.
Oh No!
10/
He starts walking toward me. The slimy slug-like ooze of that expression, he thinks he& #39;s won. He thinks he& #39;s going to pass close. He& #39;s not. There& #39;s my trolly in between. That& #39;s most of 2m in itself.
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He smirks as he takes the step sideways round my trolley. I& #39;m penned. He& #39;s now on my right, the cage in the world food aisle and then a shelf end display to the left.
Can& #39;t go back- person behind. Can& #39;t break right- spice kids.
But I can play the casual-accident game too.
12/
Can& #39;t go back- person behind. Can& #39;t break right- spice kids.
But I can play the casual-accident game too.
12/
I lean in to the shelf end and take a hard look at some promotional coffee or something. I don& #39;t know. My face is pointed that way but I am not there. My focus is behind me as, in my casual fake-accidental way I let the trolley swing right from my one handed grip.
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The trolley swings, coincidentally* in time with Creepo. As I disengage from the coffee (was it coffee- cannot remember) I drag the trolley behind, one handed, casual AF, off to crisps.
He& #39;s failed. I complete my shopping.
As I leave I see he& #39;s back at strawberries.
14/
He& #39;s failed. I complete my shopping.
As I leave I see he& #39;s back at strawberries.
14/
In case you wondered what the local pub creep / neighborhood sex pest is doing these days... He& #39;s well and happy. No longer in Wetherspoon& #39;s, he& #39;s relocated to the supermarket and he& #39;s playing a game with far higher stakes than just sexual assault in the toilet corridor.
/End
/End
*Not coincidentally
