Thursday, November 5, 2009
As some of you may know, I have been a bit of a creep magnet in my life. I have been peed on by strangers, randomly, in public places, for no discernible reasons. I have had my share of stalkers, lurkers, and haters. I have been poisoned. I have been tailed by a P.I. You get the general idea.
When I was living in Paris, there happened to be a movie theater, a revival house actually, just around the corner from my apartment. One day I decided to go take in a matinee of The Crow, which I had never seen when it came out. So, I grabbed my Kinder Bueno and scurried out the door. A man stopped me on the street, asking me (en francais) if I could direct him to the movie theater. So, I did. Of course he noticed by my accent that I was a foreigner....so he proceeded to make chit chat with me which seemed innocent enough....asked me where I was from, what I was doing in Paris, where I was going to school, etc. It began to dawn on me that he was asking a lot of questions.
Once we arrived at the theater, I bought my ticket and headed in, glad to be rid of the friendly Frenchman, as his eagerness to converse annoyed me. The theater was pretty empty. I grabbed a seat in the middle and settled in. The dude, of course, comes in and sits right next to me. He continues to try and make small talk with me. I answer as tersely as possible, hoping to vibe him away. (I would later come to learn that French men do not understand the go away vibe at all, even when you say, well, go away.) A couple of other stragglers find their seats and the audience tops out at 6.
Finally, the movie begins. A wave of relief washes over me, because I think, naively, that I am now done dealing with this guy. So the movie unfolds and Brandon Lee’s final performance plays out. About 2/3 of the way through the movie, I suddenly become aware that Le Creep’s hand is rubbing my thigh. What?! Oh my God, what do I do? I cross my leg, so as to casually throw his hand off. I shift to the far end of the seat, hoping, once again in vain, that he will pick up on my body language. A few minutes go by, and his hand is back! rubbing against the side of my thigh. I am momentarily frozen with shock at this groper’s balls (figurative not literal obvs).
I get up and move over a couple seats. Creeper gets up and moves over a couple seats too. I turn and look at him and say, “No.” (actually I said “Non”, but not all of you speak French and you will assume I have made an error) So, I move again, and holy shit he does too. At this point, I just want the movie to be done so I can leave. I have never walked out of a movie, even when it meant sitting through total trash for 2 hours.
The movie ends and I bolt out of my seat and out the exit. This fool follows me, running behind me, continuing to talk, only now it has all turned very sexual for him. He tells me how he wants to come to my apartment and do a variety of dirty things to me, blah blah blah. I pretty much say nothing. He follows me right to the door to my building. It has become clear to me that he is going to try and come in. He tells me he is coming up with me and I tell him he is not. We go back and forth for a bit, and he finally says that I am a typical American prude.
Now, I am pissed. So, I tell him in no uncertain terms, “I am not a prude asshole, I just don’t want to fuck YOU!” He turns to walk away yelling various obscenities back at me. All I could manage was a quick “Va te faire enculer!!” before I bolted into the building behind the safety of the 200 year old door. I must emit a creep pheromone, seriously.