It’s only as I’m opening my car passenger door to get my backpack that I clearly hear the woman in the conversation fairly shrieking “You touched your penis!”
Some part of my exhausted brain went, “Huh? What?”
The conversation that I heard after that went something like;
You touched your penis, you were in my apartment. You’re a piece of filth! No wonder your wife left you, no wonder your son doesn’t want to live with you. I hope everyone figures out what a peice of trashy filth you are!
The man who was the object of this tirade is using a cane to walk, he moves slowly and uncertainly, due to severe spinal damage. In other words, this guy is probably zero threat to a woman. And God only knows that he may have adjusted himself because of something to do with the injuries.
I honestly don’t know, I wasn’t there. I can say that occasionally this guy when I’ve spoken to him outside the apartments. I have noticed that sometimes (clearly unconsciously he adjusts himself). Honestly it looks like he’s in pain when he does it.
As I focused on the “Conversation” I could see that he was genuinely ashamed. I could also see that the woman was quite enraged.
Then I really took a look at her and the first thought I had was she looked like Jabba the Hut.
Hell, I’d have been adjusting myself to prevent my penis from crawling up inside.
Now I have a conundrum, I can ignore this insanity. Or I can say what I really think, which is;
“Damn lady if this broken old man is getting wood because of your fat stinky ass, you should count yourself lucky. I’d imagine there’s been nothing twix your legs that didn’t run on batteries for decades. I’d bet your vibrators are so stinky that you have to replace them every month because some stink just never goes away. I’d never punish my dick by putting it in you. Hell, seeing you naked would make me want to suck cock for free, on the street, in Iran! At least then my torment would be ended quickly by a fall from a tall building.”
But I weighed my options, decided that I was too tired and that this was not my battle.
After all for me, very few people I encounter would be worth my energy.
I evaluated the situation for a moment more…
I closed the passenger door to the car, shook my head and walked away.
Neither of these people were my concern.
In retrospect, I think that it was the shrillness of the harridan, and how closely she was mimicking, so closely the “Group Think” of the feminist movement today. Obviously she thought all men were scum but wasn’t pretty enough or gutsy enough to simply declare she was a lesbian.
Some gay men who never fully embrace their gayness get really weird and very hostile to women and other gay men. Perhaps this was the female version of the phenomenon.
Remotely interesting… Still not interesting enough for me to engage. Perhaps it was simple penis envy… Nope, not interesting enough.
I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked and opened the door, closed it behind me and was immediately cloaked in silence.
I guess that I’m just over all the politics, victimhood, and insanity.
I did feel kinda bad for the guy.
But like most men, I figured if he wouldn’t defend himself then I wasn’t going to do it for him.
Yep, the peace of my apartment was a lot better than listening to a shrill bitch badmouthing men simply because we have external plumbing.