Saturday, May 3, 2014

Make a Scene (I): SNATCH

Are you looking at my snatch?
     The girl had a severe expression on her face.  Her friend, seated next to her on the tram, looked up at Rob seemingly aware that something was going on.
     But the girl in the black tights hadn’t said a word.  So where the fuck, thought Rob, is the voice coming from.
     He stared blankly around the carriage and finally back to the angry face, glaring up at him, seeming to demand answers.
     Then the voice again.
     You think that just because I’m sitting here in a skirt that I want everyone to see my fucking snatch?  You didn’t consider that maybe girls are unaware sometimes too, not always thinking about how they’re sitting or where their legs are so that perverts like you aren’t always gawking up there?  Well, sorry for being absent-minded, you filthy…
     As the young woman rattled on, Rob began to uncomfortably scratch at his beard.  His eyes darted about the place, trying to see whether anyone else could hear this.  When no one in the train seemed at all aware of a disturbance, Rob became utterly baffled.
     Of course he’d caught a slight glimpse, just a tiny little one, down the girl’s skirt.  But it was all just black down there, he didn’t get to see a thing; and he was beginning to seriously consider why he’d bothered trying in the first place.  It was a reactionary look; a curiosity that led spontaneously to a lucky-dip flick of the eyes.
     And now this was happening.
     Yeah that’s it.  Stand there like a fucking gorilla holding its dick.  Keep thinking to yourself that no one notices.  They just pity you, you creep!  They pity your lack of self respect!
     The girl’s friend still just sat there, now staring at him the same way as the girl, like he was a rabid dog or something.  The tram rattled and rolled down the road and unable to comprehend what was going on, at the next stop Rob jumped off and ran as fast as he could down a busy city street, into the crowds and hopefully forever away from the crazy psychic girl, who he could still hear in the distance tearing him apart for catching what he thought was a fairly innocent sneak peak down her skirt.
     Snatch”, Rob reflected.  What kind of girl calls it a “snatch”?
     Somewhere down the road, when things seemed to have settled, Rob slowed down and finally came to the steps of the State Library.  He needed rest, time to think and try to figure out how the fuck the preceding events were possible.
     He stroked his beard and pulls his long hair back with both hands, resting his head in them and looking blankly into the sky.
     How?  Why me?
     But before too long the strangeness of the day found him again.  In the distance, across the road, he saw the girl and her friend.  But now they were with two police officers.
     No way.
     The absurdity of the situation failed to alleviate Rob’s fear.   And then things escalated some more.  The girls, of course, spotted him sitting there on the steps; and of course, the police officers started marching over.
     It shouldn’t have surprised Rob as much as it did, then, when the girl’s voice re-manifested in his head, followed by an authoritarian male voice.
     There he is!  He’s the one who stole glances at my snatch without my knowing it!
     You little sicko, how can you go around disrupting public order with your filthy thoughts, making young women feel uncomfortable and unsafe on our public transport.  You ought to be ashamed.  Hey!  Get here!
     But Rob couldn’t handle it.  What the fuck is this?  he kept thinking, knowing there was no answer to the question.  The only option was to run from this madness.  Even if he was losing his mind, nothing could stop his legs from moving.  It was all just too fucking much.
     And of course no one in the streets seemed aware of the crazy mind chatter that was going on.  All they saw were an hysterical young girl pointing, a police officer marching down the street and a young and very confused looking man fleeing.
     Rob ran and ran.


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