Life and Times of Joy
I'm doing ok although I feel like lately I've been living through a quite interesting and dare I say, exciting time. I haven't decided if it's good excitement or not-so-good excitement but I'm so sure that it's not boring. Shocking:definitely, confusing:quite so, unnerving: hell yeah... here are some an exerpt of recent events in my life. Judge for yourself.
The night before last I got the shock of my life. I went to the 7-11 store and when I came back to my car, I saw a big guy jerking off not 5 feet from my car. I recognized him from before when I went to the gas station to use the ATM (about 100 yards away). It was late- about 11 pm and dark and no one was really around. My hand really shook as I unlocked the car and got in and locked the doors. It felt like it took forever for me to just get into the car. I backed out of the parking bay and drove off. The whole process must have taken less than ten seconds but those seconds felt endless...
Why do people do things like that? I don't really get it but my guess is that it has nothing to do with sex. It's the intimidation factor that gives these people the rush. They like seeing women reacts with screams or whatever. I don't know what my face must have looked like but I tried my best not to let anything register on my face. Why give him the satisfaction. I was just very afraid as I know that things could easily turn really dangerous. If he wanted to overpower me, he could have easily done so. He was about 5'10" or 6' compared to the my 5' nothing. He didn't look demented or anything. He looked kinda normal actually.
Now that I've thought about it, what I should have done is go back into the store and ask one of the shop assistants to walk me to my car or something like that. It just never crossed my mind to ask help. All that went through my head was, "What do I do, what do I do, what do I do" like a mantra.
When I got back home, at 12.30 I got a call from a student saying that one of my boys was involved in an accident. It turned out that the boy was my boss's son. The boy who called me said that he didn't know what to do and that the boy in question didn't want to call his dad. So in the end the consensus was, "Let's call Ms Joy and let her decide what to do." Nice..
When I arrived at the hospital, there were huddling at a corner and watched me, in my full-blown mother-hen mode, approach warily, fully expecting a tongue-lashing which I was happy to oblige later but at that moment I needed to get the facts. They just watched in awe as I just entered the restricted treatment area. I've long discovered that if you carry yourself like you belong there and it's your God-given right to be there, people tend to think you that you really do have the right. Plus I've had a lot of experience with the emergency rooms after nearly two years as the hostel (not prison) warden.
I finally located him in one of the treatment rooms after hunting for him in the observation ward and the X-Ray department and when he saw me, he braced himself for a scolding. Knowing that he'll get more than I could ever give him from his dad, I kept quiet. Well, relatively quiet anyway.. I couldn't stop myself from scolding him when he told me that he took the motorcycle/scooter thingie and not his car because it's just him alone in the car. Trying to save money on petrol apparently, which inevitably invited the "Are you trying to tell me that your life is cheaper than a tank of gas??!!" response from me. I couldn't help myself. For a smart guy, he sure acted like an idiot!!
It turned out that he fell off the bike that he borrowed from a friend at 8 pm, sat for a test until 10 pm and has been waiting for more than two hours for treatment. End of the rope, didn't know what to do, call Ms Joy. All that with a broken shoulder.. right shoulder.. I don't know how he managed to write anything in the test.
So it was 1.30 in the morning before I drove him home and I was thinking to myself, how do I make this easier. It turned out, you can't really make it easier. Waking people in the middle of the night is not fun especially when you are telling them that their firstborn was involved in an accident and has broken bones. Not fun at all.
I had to repeat myself three times before it sank in that I was in front of his house with his battered son in tow. I stayed to explain what happened and reminded my boy to take his medications before bed, after which I took myself off so that his dad can yell at him in private. I got in at 2.30 and couldn't sleep from all the adrenaline pumping through my system. What a night... a flasher/public masturbator (kinda sounds like public prosecutor) and a rescue all in the space of 3 hours.
My boys, even at 21-22, are still boys, in my eyes. I don't know why or how but somehow they look to me for answers and I have no choice but to be a responsible adult for them or at least appear to be and try to give them the answers as best as I can. I always ask myself, when did I turn into an adult, when at times I feel like I'm as clueless as they are? I don't mind that they called me because I feel that it's a sign of their trust in me which is really sweet, I think. And you know I'm a sucker for sweet gestures from people:) The world greatest sap, remember?
The night before last I got the shock of my life. I went to the 7-11 store and when I came back to my car, I saw a big guy jerking off not 5 feet from my car. I recognized him from before when I went to the gas station to use the ATM (about 100 yards away). It was late- about 11 pm and dark and no one was really around. My hand really shook as I unlocked the car and got in and locked the doors. It felt like it took forever for me to just get into the car. I backed out of the parking bay and drove off. The whole process must have taken less than ten seconds but those seconds felt endless...
Why do people do things like that? I don't really get it but my guess is that it has nothing to do with sex. It's the intimidation factor that gives these people the rush. They like seeing women reacts with screams or whatever. I don't know what my face must have looked like but I tried my best not to let anything register on my face. Why give him the satisfaction. I was just very afraid as I know that things could easily turn really dangerous. If he wanted to overpower me, he could have easily done so. He was about 5'10" or 6' compared to the my 5' nothing. He didn't look demented or anything. He looked kinda normal actually.
Now that I've thought about it, what I should have done is go back into the store and ask one of the shop assistants to walk me to my car or something like that. It just never crossed my mind to ask help. All that went through my head was, "What do I do, what do I do, what do I do" like a mantra.
When I got back home, at 12.30 I got a call from a student saying that one of my boys was involved in an accident. It turned out that the boy was my boss's son. The boy who called me said that he didn't know what to do and that the boy in question didn't want to call his dad. So in the end the consensus was, "Let's call Ms Joy and let her decide what to do." Nice..
When I arrived at the hospital, there were huddling at a corner and watched me, in my full-blown mother-hen mode, approach warily, fully expecting a tongue-lashing which I was happy to oblige later but at that moment I needed to get the facts. They just watched in awe as I just entered the restricted treatment area. I've long discovered that if you carry yourself like you belong there and it's your God-given right to be there, people tend to think you that you really do have the right. Plus I've had a lot of experience with the emergency rooms after nearly two years as the hostel (not prison) warden.
I finally located him in one of the treatment rooms after hunting for him in the observation ward and the X-Ray department and when he saw me, he braced himself for a scolding. Knowing that he'll get more than I could ever give him from his dad, I kept quiet. Well, relatively quiet anyway.. I couldn't stop myself from scolding him when he told me that he took the motorcycle/scooter thingie and not his car because it's just him alone in the car. Trying to save money on petrol apparently, which inevitably invited the "Are you trying to tell me that your life is cheaper than a tank of gas??!!" response from me. I couldn't help myself. For a smart guy, he sure acted like an idiot!!
It turned out that he fell off the bike that he borrowed from a friend at 8 pm, sat for a test until 10 pm and has been waiting for more than two hours for treatment. End of the rope, didn't know what to do, call Ms Joy. All that with a broken shoulder.. right shoulder.. I don't know how he managed to write anything in the test.
So it was 1.30 in the morning before I drove him home and I was thinking to myself, how do I make this easier. It turned out, you can't really make it easier. Waking people in the middle of the night is not fun especially when you are telling them that their firstborn was involved in an accident and has broken bones. Not fun at all.
I had to repeat myself three times before it sank in that I was in front of his house with his battered son in tow. I stayed to explain what happened and reminded my boy to take his medications before bed, after which I took myself off so that his dad can yell at him in private. I got in at 2.30 and couldn't sleep from all the adrenaline pumping through my system. What a night... a flasher/public masturbator (kinda sounds like public prosecutor) and a rescue all in the space of 3 hours.
My boys, even at 21-22, are still boys, in my eyes. I don't know why or how but somehow they look to me for answers and I have no choice but to be a responsible adult for them or at least appear to be and try to give them the answers as best as I can. I always ask myself, when did I turn into an adult, when at times I feel like I'm as clueless as they are? I don't mind that they called me because I feel that it's a sign of their trust in me which is really sweet, I think. And you know I'm a sucker for sweet gestures from people:) The world greatest sap, remember?
Labels: Public Masturbator
posted by Joy at 2:27 AM
2 Comments:
LOL. he's can't deal with his dad. it's such a norm to see son not in good term with their dad. both of them have ego, both of them don't want to let it go.
or..he just too afraid to be scolded by his father, cause during the moment of pain, what he need is comfort. yeah, you scold him but he's glad in someway that you there to tell what happened to his father. at least, he's not the one who do the talking. it's a very great help for him, i think.
boys need to get through pain and get busted by himself to grow. he doesn't need to act tough, but he need to drop a notch or two of his ego to learn something. it's not an easy journey, especially when it's involving emotion cause i'm so fragile in handling my emotion.
he's off to his journey to maturity, someday he'll learn to be a man. guide him with your experience cause you're the one he trust.
owh..he's not that young. 20 is an age whereby a boy should already grew to a man. he shouldn't wasting his good young age for nothing. his age very near to mine. OMG.
It was fear mainly because he was given a Waja but chose instead to borrow a friend's bike without having a license for motorbike. Of course he's afraid. Wouldn't you be? I know I would.
I agree that people need some pain and suffering to grow well. An overly sheltered person is like a tree that couldn't develop a root system which is strong enough to withstand a strong wind. It will be uprooted at the first sign of a stiff breeze.
20 is not too young, I know but when you are responsible for them and witness the stupid mistakes that they make. It can make them seem very young and you feel as old as the mountains:)
Having said that, I have met a 20-year old with an old soul and a 40 year old who is more immature than a 20-year-old.. so age is not a valid indicator for maturity.
Maturity is a valid indicator for maturity.
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