My neighbor thinks I’m a perv.Strike that. My neighbor is absolutely certain that I’m a perv. Give it a day or two, and the whole trailer park will think I’m a perv, too.
So it’s about 12:30 in the morning, and I’m still working at home. Being a good boy, I am not speeding through any scenes, no matter how tedious, and I have the sound up loud enough to hear all the subtle nuances of the dialog and the actors’ delivery of same. The tape I’m watching is in the middle of a particularly hot and heavy scene with lots of grunts and groans and moist slapping sounds and “Harder, harder,” and “Get it, get it” and “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, bitch?”, and I suddenly see a shadow falling on the curtains on the window in my front door. I scramble frantically, searching for the VCR’s remote control. Not under the sofa, not on the floor, not on the table, turn the fucking volume down at least, idiot, not under the table, ah, there it is, in between the sofa cushions.
Stop.
STOP! STOP, STOP, STOP!
As I open the door, a very nervous-looking young woman is just starting down the stairs.
“Can I help you?”
“It’s okay. I…. uh, I, I, I locked myself out of my trailer. I need to call Wayne.”
“Wayne?”
“The landlord’s son. He has keys to all the trailers.”
News to me. Note to self: Change all locks.
“Well, come in and use my phone.”
Reluctantly, she steps tentatively into my trailer. She seems reluctant to come more than a couple of steps into the trailer, so I bring the phone over to her. She wakes Wayne up and explains her predicament, then holds the phone out for me to take back. Through tight lips, she says, “Thank you,” and turns to leave.
“You can wait here if you want.”
“That’s okay, I’ll just…. I’ll just wait in my truck ‘til Wayne gets here.”
“But it’s, like, thirty degrees out there, and I bet it’ll be half an hour at least. I promise I’m safe.”
She furrows her brow and gives me a knowing glare.
“That’s okay,” she says tersely, “I will wait. In my truck.”
Ever since she left, I’ve been running the list of all the things I could or should have tried to say to that implied “No means no”:
“I know what you must have heard, but I really don’t like porn, personally. I’m just watching it for work.”
“I don’t enjoy doing this, you know. I’m gay. Really. No, really!”
“Vaginas don’t interest me at all. Honest. I’m just looking at them because my boss made me do it.”
“I’m just doing research for my Doctorate in Sociology.”
I finally realize that there just was no right thing to say. It's just one of those situations where there is no way to save face.
I guess that first thing in the morning I should start looking for a new place to live.
