Posted by Mike B. on August 9, 2005, 3:10 am It had been quite a while after treatment now, and I thought I pretty much had the thing in the bag now, since it had been about two years since I’d been involved in any situations in violation of the law. One day I read in the newspaper about a little police sting-operation that had taken place at Southcenter (shopping mall), in which the police, after receiving complaints about a man exposing himself in the restroom there, had an undercover plainclothes female police officer go stand in the hall outside the restrooms, looking inside, and the man being there, exposed himself to her, and they arrested him. I just shook my head and said to myself, ‘Idiot. Even if he is feeling whimsical and caves in to the thing, that’s about the stupidest way I can think of to let off steam. In the restroom at a shopping center! My God, what an idiot! And on top of that, he stays there and keeps doing it long enough for the police to get there and set up a sting-operation to catch him! If he’s going to be that stupid, he may as well just do the long-raincoat routine. My God, what an imbecile!’ The ironic thing is, when flashers as stupid as that get caught, hauled in, and then evaluated, they’re usually found to have above-average intelligence—in spite of being such morons as to try stunts like that. Then one time later, I was reading another article, on the subject of exhibitionism, and a policeman or detective was describing the tactics of exhibitionists. He was saying something like, “An exhibitionist doesn’t want to be in a remote place. He wants to be somewhere that’s heavily crowded with people, like the restroom at a shopping mall.” Now it was the police who were showing their ignorance. They were making their evaluation of all exhibitionists based only on the actions of the ones who were so stupid as to pull such idiotic stunts as that and get themselves caught. Wrong conclusion. Sometimes exhibitionists do go to remote areas. And sometimes, while at such places, they do get whimsical and sometimes things happen. Ask me. I think I’m qualified to speak on the subject. Well, since I hadn’t been involved in any situations overstepping the law for such a long time, and I had mastered it well enough that the few times when I had to cave in, I was able to limit them to situations that involved the girl’s consent—total grith from the law—I figured I pretty much had the whole thing in order. But a strange thing happened one day, when I was at Northgate Shopping Center. I was just going there for some legitimate reason, something I needed to buy there. I had to use the restroom, so I did. There was nobody else around anywhere, inside or outside the place. The doors have been taken off of the restrooms at Northgate, just inviting exhibitionists to do their thing. ‘But not me,’ I was thinking. ‘I’m not such a total moron as that.’ But just as I turned from the urinal and was zipping up my pants, what did I hear from outside in the hall but two lovely feminine voices speaking in an Asian language? I’m not an expert on Asian languages, but I could determine it wasn’t Japanese or Korean. It didn’t sound like it was from the Austronesian language-group either, which rules out Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. But as for the Chinese idioms, Mandarin, Cantonese and Wu, I can’t tell the difference between them and the languages of the rest of Southeast Asia. It could have been any of those countries. ‘Asian girls! Oh!’ I was saying to myself. ‘Oh, I love Asian girls!’ And they were coming this way right now! Suddenly a fit of passion just came over me. An attack of the whimsies just plastered me, and good. They were just around the barrier. I caved in. I took it back out and went around the barrier, still well inside the restroom, but in view from the hall outside, as if I had just stepped away from the urinal and was just being a little careless about putting it away before getting into view from the outside. American society never—or almost never—falls for that as an excuse, but the country these girls were from? Hmmm, who knows? I stood there. They came by. Their eyes both glanced down briefly at it, then up again and they continued on their way. I put it away. ‘Now I better get the hell OUT of here,’ I said to myself. I went out to the hall and outside the mall to the parking lot, the same direction the girls had gone. I had just committed what I considered one of the most IDIOTIC maneuvers imaginable. On the other hand, I considered, maybe their different Third World mentality might give me a break. I looked around outside, and they weren’t anywhere. They had just gone out. I would’ve been able to see them. Maybe they went in the bank there just beyond the restrooms. I went back and looked through the window of the door to the Seafirst Bank there. There was a line of people inside and the two girls were there, standing in line waiting. As if that first maneuver wasn’t idiotic enough, passion hit me again, and I just had to get a close-up look at their faces. I went in the bank and walked through, taking a look at their faces as I went by—they were just as beautiful as Asian girls usually are—then I continued on, going out the exit on the opposite side. After going to the bank, they were probably going on their way, I thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be so dangerous after all to continue my shopping. And there would be so many people there, the chances of them seeing me again would be remote, I figured. So I went back into the mall and continued my shopping. I figured I was pretty safe, but sometime about an hour later, after moseying through the different stores, when I was almost all the way down to the other end, suddenly there they were again, walking beside me! And there was the information booth right in front of us. Vainly I tried to give them a friendly smile, but before I could even scram the hell out of there, there they were at the information booth, one of them addressing the lady who was sitting there, and pointing her thumb back at me. ‘Oh, God!’ I said to myself. If there’s one thing that strikes TERROR into the heart of an exhibitionist, it’s the sight of a girl talking to a policeman—or other authority—and pointing at him. I turned to the east exit that was right there, and, butterflies in my stomach, terrified to the soul, I walked out of there as quickly as I could without making it look like I was running. I didn’t look back. Briskly, I walked out the door. Outside, I didn’t know if there would be security guards coming after me. I kept on walking. Now out in the parking lot, I started to run. I ran as fast as I could. Visions of police, jail and the judicial system once again were running through my mind. (Continued) Link: Post a response
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(Originally posted December 6, 2000, 8:51 pm)
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