We all have preconceived notions of what a pervert is supposed to be like. The work colleague who has a penchant for lascivious jokes, the sleaze ball in the bus who keeps his eyes creepily fixated on your bosom, the randy stud on the dance floor who wants to dry-hump you without your consent, the debauched construction workers that ogle, holler and catcall every time you walk by and the online creep who keeps sending you unsolicited pictures of his privates.
Yes, the menfolk wishing to engage in lewd conduct are not very discreet about their desires and more often than not, you can detect their deviant behaviour from a mile away.
I spent the better part of my decadent university days fending off perverts and I thought I could discern a friendly person from a creep down to a fine art, until I met one guy who caught me completely off guard.
He was the roommate of a guy my friend was sort of fooling around with. My friend would persuade me to tag along to their apartment to chill out in between classes. I didn’t mind. They were both hospitable to a fault and had a decent Internet connection so my time there wasn’t a total drag. The roommate was the all-round nice guy. He was a bit socially awkward and painstakingly reserved but he could put in an appearance when propriety required.
Otherwise he kept mostly to himself and would typically be engrossed in his books whenever we were around. Our interactions never went beyond formal greetings and the occasional small talk so when someone knocked on my door that uneventful Saturday afternoon, he was the last person in the world I expected to see.
I was surprised to say the least. I had never seen him outside their apartment. How did he even know where I lived? After an exchange of pleasantries, I ushered him in, dying to know what had brought him by. “I am sorry for showing up unannounced, but I have something important I need to talk to you about.” He explained. “It’s okay. What’s up?” I inquired. “I was wondering if you are free tonight,” he continued.
Thoroughly disgusted
Holy smokes! Was he actually asking me out on a date? I was taken aback. He was totally not my type! He talked in utter monotone and had as much personality as a brick wall! Not to mention that we had no chemistry whatsoever. Zero, zilch, nada! But maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he wanted me to go over that night to help him with a school project or something.
“I don’t know. What did you have in mind?” I asked. “I am requesting the pleasure of your company,” he responded. Good grief! He was actually asking me out on a date! How was I going to turn him down without sounding like a total b!£c#?
“I am sorry. I’m just not feeling up to venturing out tonight” I answered, hoping he would read between the lines. His face grew more solemn. “I don’t think you understand”, he broke in. “I am not asking you out on a date. I am requesting the pleasure of your company in my bed tonight”. My jaw dropped to the floor. “Excuse me?”
“I’m inviting you to my bed tonight.” He asserted. “Are you asking me to have sex with you?” I asked, struggling to compose myself. “Yes, we are both adults. I have been checking you out and I want to have sex with you,” he maintained.
I was at a loss for words. How preposterous! The polite, well-mannered boy I knew hadn’t just asked me for casual sex. Inviting me to his bed? Like it was the opportunity of a lifetime and I should be thankful for getting a chance. Did he think his manhood was some sort of a Holy Grail that girls would be tripping over each other to get to?
I was thoroughly disgusted. I unceremoniously threw him out and made a mental note never to go their place ever again. I learnt a valuable life lesson; the best perverts are masters at disguise.
