I went out in Cambridge with my sister on Halloween this year. She's lived down in Brighton for three or four years now, so it was a bit nostalgic being back around Cambridge together. Started off fairly normally in The Run, then we tried to go to a party with Antony. Antony tried to make us walk fucking miles to some 15 year old's free house party. Not cool. So we ended up (at this point, it may be worth adding, highly inebriated) going back to Lee and Paul's place. Had a few more beers and a little bit of drugs. At this point, I decided what I really wanted was a hot dog. For some reason, I convinced myself I would be able to walk several miles to the town centre, find a hotdog, and return before anyone missed me. Here's what actually happened.*
I walked (staggered) for several miles, and eventually reached Cineworld. At this point, I sat down to roll a cigarette. I was then approached by a guy who grabbed my crotch and asked if I'd like to go somewhere with him. I declined. He tried to kiss me. I further declined. I began to walk off in the opposite direction, but he continued to follow me, grabbing at my arse/crotch and trying to kiss me. For some reason, I decided that I didn't want to seem homophobic, so told him "I don't have a problem with it at all, just not tonight".
Now, this is flawed on a few levels.
Firstly, it suggests that I am, in fact, open to gay cruising opportunities. Secondly, it suggests that it was just that night in particular that I wasn't in the mood - therefore giving the impression that my mind may changed by crotch-grabbing persuasion. This didn't help in my attempts to escape his attention. Luckily, I was 'rescued' by a little Chinese guy, who came over to me and pretended to be a friend I was meeting up with, to discourage this guy from continuing to follow me. That, paired with me screaming "FUCK OFF! You can't just follow people, it's not right! I've said no, you know the rules!" seemed to do the trick. What rules I may have been referring to, I'm not sure.
So I lose one gay stalker, and pick up a Chinese guy I can't get rid of. I keep telling him I'm going here, I'm going there, I'm going miles away, and he keeps insisting he has "nothing else on" and will escort me. After walking around in circles with him for a while, I get a call from my sister. She's noticed my absence, and has gone out looking for me. Unfortunately, her sense of direction is a little flawed, and rather than heading towards Cambridge centre like I did, she set off towards the airport on the periphery of the city, in the opposite direction. This is about three miles away. Whilst I'm on the phone to her, I have my back to the Chinese guy. I'm thinking what a great excuse it is to finally get away from him, and feel victorious in the way things are coming together, despite never having found a hot dog. Well, not quite, anyway...
I turn around to tell Chinese guy the good news, that I am leaving and don't need his company. And he's standing there, trousers and Y-fronts loose around his ankles, penis in hand, wanking furiously. He begs me to stay, and whisperingly assures me that he's "almost there". I realise this is probably quite a good time to get going, as his ability to follow me is somewhat hindered. I run.
A few hours and miles later, I'm reunited with my sister. We catch a cab over to my dad's flat, and proceed to have an argument outside. She goes inside. I walk off to cool my head. It occurs to me that the last time this happened, I got sexually assaulted twice. I walk back to the flat. My sister has gone to sleep. I can't get inside. I curl up and sleep on the doorstep.
I'm awakened a couple of hours later, in the grey light of morning, by a police woman prodding me. She's curious to know why I'm sleeping outside.
*A few elements of this story have been left out, but I can confirm it includes no sexual activity, hetero or otherwise.
Everything left in is true.
