I See Perverts


Following my blog post regarding my having one of those faces that reminds people of someone it got me thinking as to whether this was the reason that in my youth instead of being a man magnet I was a weirdo magnet. For example as a teenager on my way home from school a man pulled over to ask me directions and it took me a moment to realise it wasn’t a Chihuahua he was stroking and pointing to on his lap at all. Coming home from work on the 298 Bus from Queen Street to Hillsborough in Auckland a chap sat a bit too close to me and began to stroke my arm. He then whispered that I had lovely hairs on my arms (I have written about this in Second Hand Jane). Visiting my friend’s place of work in a London Hostel I got leaped on by a mad man…

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