Here’s a story that I wouldn’t believe if I didn’t know it to be true. It happened when I was 13 and flailing around trying to deal with my then unwelcome homosexuality. There’s no particular reason for telling this tale, it just popped into my head last night.
Anyone who knows me in the flesh would find it hard to believe that I was actually quite good at rugby, all my life I’ve been clinically underweight and as a boy was physically underdeveloped however in rugby what I lacked in strength and size I more than compensated for with sheer determination and a complete lack of scruples, having some pretty serious anger issues helped. Opposing hookers were accustomed to getting their shins raked by my studs and I became quite deadly with a well aimed knee, all shielded from the ref by the rest of the scrum. The games Master decided that I should try out for the under 14s which meant attending an after school session, a long bus ride and then a mile walk home.
Sitting in the bus shelter I realised that I needed to “go” and, even though I hated the places, it would have to be the public toilet. I hated them because He’d chosen a toilet as the venue for one of his assaults but needs must when the devil drives. This was in the days when you literally had to spend a penny to get into the cubicles which at least meant the locks always worked so in I went and got on with business.
Idly reading the graffiti on the door and walls was amusing especially the claims as to the size of people’s equipment, 12 inches forsooth! I almost laughed out loud when I got to one that said “Are you a young boy looking for fun? Be here at…” it was like an obscene recruitment poster for the Boy Scouts. Then to my absolute horror a face appeared in the big gap between door and floor and a man’s voice announced “Well, that’s a pretty sight!” I’d say I nearly shat myself but that was the object of the exercise I just froze and gaped at the apparition, it’s really difficult to be dignified or brave with your trousers and pants round your ankles. Eventually the face disappeared and I heard the outside door open then close so finishing as quickly as possible I recovered pants and trousers then left the cubicle praying that I hadn’t been tricked, half expecting to find the man waiting for me. He wasn’t so I fled the building back to the relative safety of the bus shelter to sit huddled up in the corner.
I’d like to say that the experience put me off public toilets for good but sadly not so, I started hanging around them before I was 14. Not that one though, it was opposite the school in full view of the boy’s boarding house and the Headmaster’s residence.
Love
Public toilets. Just the sheer name makes me shiver of disgust. The only positive going was reading the graffiti, so true! I can fully understand your shock over that unexpected viewer… you didn’t scream out loud?
Love
Daniel
Daniel
I didn’t make a sound I was absolutely frozen with terror!
Love
Malcolm