May 13, 2009 12:37 am
It was my freshman year of college and I was living in a shitty apartment with two batshit crazy roommates. I didn’t actually have a room, I lived in the dining room that someone had slapped a pair of poorly installed closet doors on. It wasn’t the optimal living situation but I found the place in a crunch when a relationship turned bad and I needed a place to crash. My roommates were definitely cause for blog fodder, one of my them was a nudist who used to walk around topless and the other walked around talking to her pet parakeet. I later found out that the nudist (also named Casey) was a drug dealer who was peddling acid out of our crummy little apartment.
The bird whisperer was the head of the household and made all of the rules. One of them was that we were not, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, to turn on the air conditioner. It was September in Florida and still hot as hell so I spent my days sweating buckets. One night when I was pulling an all night study session, I couldn’t take it any longer. My room didn’t have a window but I needed some air so I sat on the couch in front of the open sliding glass doors.
It was around 2AM when I heard dogs barking. There were houses behind the apartments and I could see a dog going nuts through the chain link fence. I looked up and saw a guy walking through the yard but didn’t think much of it since it was a common shortcut that people took. A minute later, the dogs started barking again and I looked up to see the guy standing about two feet from me.
With his pants down around his ankles.
He was jerking off.
The guy had his shirt pulled up over his face so I could only see his eyes and nose through the neck hole but he was definitely smiling and enjoying himself. In all of my infinite eighteen year old wisdom, I spoke these words:
“What. WHAT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Like I didn’t know. But I was caught off guard and those were the words that came to me at that moment. I’ve since thought of so many more clever comebacks but I’ll never get the chance to use them.
After the intial shock, I realized that the door was open and there was only a screen door separating me from the fist-pumping lunatic. I slammed the door shut and fumbled with the broken latch. Then I ran down the hallway to my roommate’s room to wake her up but her door was locked. I pounded on the door to wake her up and finally she responded by yelling through the door for me to go away. I pounded harder and told her to open the door and when she did, I told her that there was a guy… jerking off… at the back door.
She didn’t care. She said to call the cops or something but that she was going back to bed. The hell she was, I made her stay awake with me until the police arrived. The cops said that there was an earlier report of the same thing in the area. Apparently, we had a serial jerker on our hands. I filed a report but the police didn’t think they would be able to catch the guy since I didn’t get a name or a description. I guess they don’t do penis line ups.
After the incident, I ended up going back to stay on my ex’s couch since I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I called ahead to let them know I was coming and what had happened. When I showed up, he and his roommate Chris were waiting for me. Chris took one look at me and with sympathetic eyes he spoke:
“I’m so sorry I scared you like that. Next time, I’ll come in through the front door.”
*Note: Chris was NOT the masked jerker and we remain friends in spite of his sick sense of humor. Check out his uber cool band Half Shark Half Jesus. Tell him I said hi.