OVERCOMING THE TOXIC CLOUD

I have a friend, let’s call her Debbye.  She marvels that everywhere she goes, she witnesses proposals of marriage.  She goes to a concert…the man in front of her drops to his knee and proposes to the woman by his side.   She eats out at a lovely restaurant…the couple next to her pledge their undying love and gets engaged.  My friend must go through life with a cloud of hearts and flowers hovering over her head at all times.

I have a cloud over my head too.  It does not contain hearts and flowers.  Whatever toxic substance it does contain produces an invisible target that can only be seen by an element of society that used to be called “perverts”.  I don’t know what they call them now (Probably political advisers).  I’m talking about those “strangers” who are reputed to wear trench coats and lurk in bushes waiting for an opportunity to play “Show and Tell.”  I refuse to get any more graphic than that.  I know what you are thinking…”She’s exaggerating.  She has never even encountered one of those weirdos!”  Well, I am NOT exaggerating.  I have endured this experience not once…not twice…but FOUR times in my life.

Let’s review the circumstances of these events to glean all the possible precautions that your loved ones should employ in order to avoid Mr. Exposure in the future.  I want you to learn from my mistakes!

Incident #1:  I was an innocent 9^th grader sitting under the Willow tree of my front yard in Texas one Saturday morning reading a book. Mmmm…I wouldn't think that the location or activity would be especially enticing to Mr. “I Left My Clothes At Home”.  But apparently that must be a big no-no. What seemed to be a casual activity for this pea-brained exhibitionist was traumatic to the young me.   Be sure to warn the 9^th grade girls in your life to never, ever engage in such risky behavior! (by risky, I mean reading outdoors in broad daylight)

            Incident #2: About seven years passed and this time I was a College Student visiting Italy for a mission trip in the summer.  Two friends and I were so careless as to walk on a sidewalk surrounding the Coliseum in Rome on our day off.  Senor “Trench Coat In the Bushes” was busily trying to greet us in his own special way. Now, I’m just baffled.  Again it was broad daylight and I have spoken to many friends over the years that did precisely what we did.  None of the others had the same encounter.

            Incident #3:  Fast forward another five years (see how these sneaky low-life’s wait until your guard is down?).  My husband and I lived in Florida and I was working very hard cleaning the windows of a house he was building.  If only I had not made a run to Publix for more Windex.  That must have been my wrong move.  Walking through the parking lot it took an embarrassingly long time to notice the little sports car that was rolling slowly forward, keeping pace with me. When I finally did, I could not help but notice the goofy grin on the driver’s face. It took a little bit longer to see the activity that inspired his expression.  May I mention that by this time in my life I was fast becoming a connoisseur of perverts, and frankly, I was just annoyed.

            Incident #4:  The final incident (Please, God, let it be the final one) occurred at least 20 years after the previous one.  I wrongly assumed that I had passed the age where the invisible target would entice the proudly perverted. This time the encounter occurred on the Interstate, yes, that is correct folks. Exposure at 70 miles per hour.  Again it took a long time for me to comprehend that the SUV that insisted  on keeping pace with me on the Interstate was doing so for a reason.  This time I looked directly in his eyes with my most bored and unimpressed expression, (noting his all to familiar goofy grin) and casually picked up my cell phone and dialed 911.   Suddenly, the vehicle that

wouldn’t leave me alone, all but disappeared, exiting the Interstate at his very first opportunity.

            So what have we learned about avoiding this degenerate element of society?  Apparently I am not smart enough to figure it out.  Perhaps you can help me come to a conclusion. But I did learn that the best possible reaction to such an event is not horror or panic, but bored disinterest.  I hope you never have to employ this response personally, but consider it expert advice from someone with experience!