You know what I’d like to have done to him?
I’d like to have him paraded naked on the most crowded road in the city.
What is he?
- An Octogenarian Casanova?
- A dirty old man?
- A Don Juan?
- A Romeo in his debilitating eighties?
- A Pious man sampling debauchery before packing up!
- A Gigolo unsuccessfully trying to hide his true vocation because he’s now old?
- A lech, caught in the act of leching?
- A philanderer who can’t afford to philander and has switched to ogling?
- A knocking-at-the-doors-of-hell playboy?
- A rake raking up some last moment memories?
- A reprobate with neither the inclination nor the time to change?
- A swinger who has lost his swing but not his will?
- A degenerate trying to vicariously regenerate?
- A sex maniac with his equipment out of order?
- A pervert hiding behind an avuncular mask?
- A leaky odorous sleazebag?
the venom is finally out of my system.
The guy you see in this picture is real and very much alive.
About 10 years ago, when I’d commute to office by a chartered bus, this man (he must have been about 60 but looked like he were 70,) would sit in the driver’s cabin, so that he could ogle at the women sitting in the front seats of the bus! He was a genius at ogling. He had that smile (that you see on his face in his caricature,) a newspaper that I bet he didn’t read, and he’d try to catch your eye. In my country, when you age you become an uncle or a grandfather to everyone younger to you, and you are then beyond reproach…and so there was no way to get rid of this character. Almost all the women would try to avoid looking at him.
Unfortunately for me, he would alight the bus at my stop, and then he’d follow me at a distance of about six steps. It made me very uncomfortable, but accusing this avuncular looking fellow would mean being branded as a woman who deliberately invited men to ogle at her (for the old are pious and pure…) and so I thought of an idea. I’d stop at different places randomly – at a flower-vendor, or an earthenware seller, or at times, just to re-tie my shoelaces…and then because he couldn’t stop six steps behind me (it would be dead give-away) he would walk on, and now I would be behind him. Because he knew how I hated him for his lecherous inclinations (I’d give him the dirtiest looks I could muster,) he began feeling uncomfortable, and then he gave up on me.
I’ve been faithful to my memories and this is a caricature with a very good likeness!
Ladies (and Gentlemen of the genteel kind,) do you recognize him?
Have you ever met an ogler who should have given it up long ago?
Share your experience!
(I know that every woman on this planet would have at least one such experience to share.)
May we live to see a world devoid of oglers and lechers!
(If we did, we’d live forever!)