mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Don't Talk To Strangers On Escalators Yesterday, I needed to run a few errands downtown. One of the errands required me to ride an escalator. I am not a big fan of the escalator. As a child, I saw a news report about how some kid got his shoelaces stuck in the escalator at Macys and was dragged under and killed or something equally horrific. Whenever I have to ride an escalator I remember this and hesitate. I eventually do get on the damn thing, it just takes me a few minutes longer than an OCD-free person. I usually let a step or two go by, check my laces, and then I force myself to step in the middle of the stairs in what I hope is a non-limb removing spot. I then spend the remainder of my descent/ascent thinking about how I can get off the darn thing without losing a toe. Anyway, I was going through my little routine fully aware that there were people behind me. I generally try to ignore the fact that my reluctance is slowing them up and annoying them. Most people will sigh at my little dance of fear or simply push past me but not this time. I could tell a man was behind me and that he had come to a halt and was checking out my approach. After I'd situated myself on the monster, I looked over my shoulder and smiled apologetically. Behind me stood an old, barrel shaped man. His arms were covered in the kind of tattoos sailors got in the 1930's. His face was round and ruddy. He had a pipe tucked into his shirt pocket and wore a captains hat embroidered with an anchor. He grinned at me. "I see you were being extra careful getting on here," he said. "Yeah, I'm kind of afraid of escalators," I replied. "Well you are wearing those itty bitty flip-flops, got to be careful to not hurt any of your toes." "Yes," I agreed beaming at his understanding nature. He looked down at my feet thoughtfully. "You got awfully small feet. Real tiny-like." "Uh-huh." "What size are your tootsies?" Okay, tootsies is sort of a gross word but remember my earlier description? It totally fit with the type of guy he looked to be. And it's not that odd to ask someone what size their feet are, right? People ask questions like that all the time. Right? Right? "Four and a half." "Oh yeah, those are real eensy. And your piggies, well they are like little girl piggies, aren't they? Or maybe more like Chinese piggies. I knew a Chinese girl once who had tootsies smaller than you. They bind them you know cause it gives the men a lot of pleasure. I like teensy footsies. I like to lick them." It is at this point that I realize this guy has yet to take his eyes off my feet and that perhaps I am not talking to a charming old man and the sea type character after all. Nope, I am simply chatting away with a complete pervert. For the first time in my life, I jumped off the last few step of the escalator. I figured I'd rather lose a toe than spend another minute with Mr. Foot Fetish. I have been feeling nauseous ever since. So gross. To look at the positive side of all of this, last night during the Scissor Sisters show some guy grabbed my ass and by comparison it didn't bother me at all. 5:11 p.m. - 2004-07-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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