This morning I witnessed a curious groping. I was not involved, but was certainly in the vicinity. Oh yes.
This morning, on the way to slack job I was waiting to change trains at Finchley Road. There was a girl stood in front of me, wearing a vest, and, dare I say it, a very nice toned body (being recently single I tend to notice these things almost immediately).
She turned around, I discovered, with a certain amount of unease that she was a he, a very effeminate oriental chap, with a slender face, girls shoes and long nails and make up.
I got on the tube, we had made eye contact. The only seat available was opposite him. I sat down and read my book, worried that he thought my eye contact was not the random angles of opposing eyes matching exactly for a split second, but that I was trying to pull him (I’m not into long nails).
Shortly afterward an older Greek looking chap sat next to me. I had my feet up on the seat opposite, Heshe was sat next to my feet and therefore opposite old Greek Guy.
I read my book. I got nudged by old Greek Guy. He was pointing at my feet.
I thought he was complaining that I had them up on the seat, as if cleanliness is one of the tubes notable points. Then I realised he wanted me to move, he wanted to sit there. I did a morning grunt (not of that type, that’s dirty) and moved my feet.
I didn’t think why he wanted to sit there, as a child I often would have moved seats to be next to a window. But he is not a child, by about 50 years, and there are no countryside views under London (I have checked).
Old Greek Guy was spread out on the seat and he opened his paper. I read my book.
My eyes popped upwards to observe Old Greek Guy opening the paper as wide (and as low) as possible and using his right hand to grope the leg of Mrmrs Heshe.
I suppose that if you are a Mrmrsmiss Heshe with the horn on a Thursday morning and you have a penchant for old Greek looking men then your luck would be in. It appears that heshe didn’t.
I wanted to say “Well, if you’ll dress like that†for my own amusement, but my years of comedy have taught me that my own amusement isn’t always beneficial to others (or otters).
No screams or runnings away though. Heshe was very dignified and just shifted away slightly. Old Greek Man didn’t grab again, or touch or gag heshe or move closer. He too just shifted away and went back to his paper.
It reminded me of a David Attenborough programme about fish I once saw, their mating event took a split second, splash and dash as it were.
Maybe these two were aliens that had mated in the same way. I hadn’t witnessed a grope that had been rejected, but the full sex.
Anyway, I got off the tube to change at Baker Street, and so did Heshe. We were going to the same platform. On the platform I again made eye contact, and he seemed scared of me. I worried that he thought I was trying to rape him and that form this journey he is more scared of me than an Old Greek Letch.
Such is life I guess.