Friday, 28 September 2007

A Flashback in Time...

I had actually started writing a very different blog when, out of nowhere, these memories came flooding back. Why, I don't know, as I hadn't been thinking of men's willies for a change (and I'm not providing any links there!), but I suddenly recalled all the times I had been flashed at when I lived in Oman.

For some reason, Oman had a lot of flashers. They were mainly the Omani men but a few of them were from the sub-continent. If a flasher was caught, he was severely punished, but they rarely are as most of his victims are usually so gob-smacked, they just stand there and gibber mindlessly. My friend, Debs, however, was on the ball, so to speak (!) and helped catch hers. When she identified him, he was hauled off to a very nasty prison in an area called Rusayl. You really don't want to end up in prison out there - everything you read about Middle Eastern incarceration is true...Debs was told by the police that she could decide his punishment. She was offered anything up to, and including, castration. She was quite mortified by this, and having seen him in the dock at sentencing time, by which stage he had languished in his own filth for three months and was completely emaciated, she felt he had served his time. As it was, he got deported back to Pakistan.

As far as I am aware, neither of my two most memorable flashers were caught...

We had just had a new superstore open in the 'shopping district' (I use that term loosely as it was rubbish then) and everyone was rushing down there to buy their huge sacks of rice, drums of ghee, half a side of goat etc and the expats were there because, for a change, we actually had a proper shopping mall! I only had #2 daughter with me that day as #1 was in nursery. #2 was off due to chicken pox and was three sheets to the wind, which was lucky for me. While we walked around the store, we bumped into a friend, Kate, and her daughters, who were also off colour. Kate was married to a work colleague of my ex, so we had a bit of a chat and a gush about how 'simply marvellous' it was that we now had a big shop in which to while away our time.

I got to my car to load up the boot with my shopping and had just strapped #2 into her car seat. I was parked at the forefront of the carpark and, across the little access road, I noticed an Omani man squatting onto the floor. My first thought was that he was taking a leak over the drainage grid and I was somewhat indignant...then, as I focussed more (I had just had eye laser surgery!), I realised that he was having a jolly good tug at himself. I nearly crashed the car, my dear reader! Behind him, busy shoppers were going about their business, ignoring him, probably assuming the same as my initial thought. I quickly looked at #2 who was not of this planet due to all the Calpol with which she was dosed and turned back to my very own personal Flash Dance...

Well, I declared to anybody that, in an identity parade, I wouldn't have recognised him by his facial features, but his appendage was so huge that initially, I thought he was polyorchidic and gazed in amazement...then it dawned on me. I shot the Jeep out as quickly as possible, pointing out various goats and sheep on the neighbouring mountains to #2 so she was distracted and drove off, intermittently chuckling, laughing out loud, and then shaking in fright at what I had seen.

My first phone call was to the ex...I told him and he was gobsmacked. My next call was to Kate.

Kate? Did you see that flasher in the carpark at the Sultan Centre?
Bloody f*ckin' hell (Kate was a dreadful potty-mouth!) did I SEE him? F*ckin' Jesus Christ! He was right next to my f*ckin' car, had his pull, wiped himself off with a f*ck-off leaf, moved across the way and STARTED AGAIN!!!
Did your girls see it? I asked.
No! For f*ck's sake, they were in the back eating Willy Wonka sweets and I'm in the front watching Willy Wanker!

An hour later, the ex called to say that Kate had called her husband, Simon, to tell him of her experience. Kate had told him she had never seen anything so huge in her life and the ex had retorted that this Agnes had said it was minute...

My second memorable flash happened, once again, in a supermarket. I was in Al Fair to purchase a birthday present. All the toddler-aged prezzies were located on the bottom shelf, so I was squatting down looking at My Little Ponies, Polly Pockets and Lego and wondering which item the child would most be likely to choke on when an Omani chap came towards me down the aisle. Out of the corner of my eye, I registered that his dishdasha was being carried upwards like a bride walking down the church aisle to meet her intended. So, I turned to stare at him. There he was, prancing gaily down, baring his masculinity for all to see! My squat over-balanced, and I ended up sprawled on the floor. Sod the present, I thought, I'm off!

I got my trolley and sped over to the frozen food aisles. My head was spinning, but after checking my list, I realised that I had to purchase frozen veg...Well, the bugger followed me and held his willy out for me over the frozen peas, just as I was reaching into the freezers to grab a bag (pardon the pun!) and I yelped!

As I yelped, he scarpered, and I was left with managers swarming around me...one lovely Pakistani manager had just been on a pilgrimage and had his hair hennaed bright red and it was somewhat difficult to take him seriously. His English wasn't fantastic and I resorted to sign language...Have you ever considered how to sign 'flasher' as a woman?

I gave up...I went home and called the ex to tell him of my latest escapade. He found it utterly hilarious, as did my friends when I told them. They started to ask me when I was going out shopping as they wanted to experience it too. At one point, there was even a Flash Agnes Fan Club as I had way more than the two I have related...

I was flashed by mobile phone a year ago...via one of those dreadful dating sites. We had arranged to meet, exchanged mobile numbers, and then I got a mucky picture of him having solo fun. I was not impressed at all and gave him very short thrift. He went onto the website and slagged me off to high heaven and sent me very rude messages until I reported him...

I like men, believe it or not, but I don't like knobheads. I will ask to see your willy when I am ready...And not before!

21 comments:

Mark Dykeman said...

A story that entertaining couldn't be faked.

Linda and her Surroundings said...

Flashing is just a weird thing.I know it must be interesting to have a willy to play with, but why on earth show anyone unless they wanted to see it. Men need to get their appendages in perspective. Keep them hidden unless otherwise asked, because I am telling the truth here, a penis is a bit of a silly looking thing if exposed at the wrong moment.

Chantal said...

Ugh! Makes you sick....I remember my wanker experience, I was seventeen & walking home one night at around this time of the year. It was dark, but I was walking on a main boulevard. I hear a bicycle come up behind me, slow down as he passes me, and this kid with glasses as thick as the bottom of bottles is steering his bike beside me while wanking on his thingie! He was saying rude disgusting things, and I just started running for the corner store...he followed me right to the intersection, then kept going as I ran into the store. The lone guy working there asked me if I was ok. I couldn't bring myself to tell him what happened, but he asked if someone was bothering me & did I want to make a call. I just said yes, no thank you, and when I saw the coast was clear, I ran all the way home without stopping. A year later, I was renting out x-country skis at the local community college on weekends, and one day in walks this kid with his thick glasses to rent skis! I recognized him right away & thought I would throw up on the spot! But I didn't.

I feel for you, especially for the one that happened when your daughter was there...ugh. And, holy mack, you've had SEVERAL of these kinds of experiences! It seems the pigs are everywhere...

Agnes Mildew said...

Mark: I can honestly guarantee all events actually happened! I can still see it all very vividly!

Linda: Yes, I agree it is a rather silly-looking thing when exposed without a request. By Jove, though, the first one I told you about was enormous...I did get a good look at his face, to be honest - and he was the spitting image of George Michael - not a bad flash, all considered!

Chantal: That's the type of flash which is threatening and it read as a nasty experience for you. Mine were always in busy places where you just knew it would go no further. Yours has had an ominous side to it and I am not surprised it shook you up. What a shame you couldn't have rigged the lad's skis so that he broke his leg somewhere lonely and scratched a message on the bottom of them: "I know what you did last summer..."

karen said...

Ugh. A few months ago I met a friend of mine from work at a local bookstore/coffee shop and we were sipping cappuccinos and chatting when I kept noticing that this guy just over her shoulder appeared to be looking at me a lot. I tried to ignore him until it was just impossible not to look back. I thought, "Do I know him from somewhere? What is his problem?" Then I looked down, as his right hand seemed awfully busy, and right there in the middle of the freakin' cafe' he is whacking off! So, I jumped up and started yelling and pointing at him. And he just sat there for a minute like he was shocked and then he bolted for the door. The manager came over and told me that they had been "...trying to catch him for a while but that the police told them that since he hadn't actually touched anyone he probably wasn't a real threat." What?! I must have looked at her like she had three heads. Needless to say I haven't been back. What's up with these creepy guys?! Hmmm... after I typed that last sentence I realized it wasn't exactly the best question to ask.

Agnes Mildew said...

Karen: The police's response is awful to the manager of your coffee shop - and it is a sad reflection of how serious other crimes have become that we are now forced to tolerate such nonsense. I wouldn't have dreamed of reporting my flashes because of the police attitude, and thankfully, they didn't bother me one iota - but if they had had an ominous, threatening side to them, I don't know how I would have coped. Since writing this post and hearing other people's comments, it suddenly has dawned on me that this isn't a laughing matter, even though it was for me...

Keli said...

My goodness! What an awful lot of flashing! I'm surprised you didn't require years of deep therapy to recover from these surprise viewings. I certainly hope the Flash Agnes fan club has now disbanded.

alcoment said...

Flashing is a weird thing. It's not right at all, but I think Agnes is right. It depends on whether you feel threatened by it or not.

Oh, and Agnes, sorry, but I had to laugh at the thought of you toppling over in the shop, he must have been quite surprised by your reaction!

thewishfulwriter said...

ew. ew. ew. ew.

i've got nothing more than that.

ew.

oh, wait. i DO have one thing:

how DOES a female sign "flasher?"!!!

Matt Chingduvé said...

I blame the weather there.....

fishwithoutbicycle said...

I'm lost for words on this one. I agree with Heather...eww!!!!

WWG said...

Hi, Good Blog :)
Look from Quebec Canada
http://www.wwg1.com

WWG :)

deathsweep said...

Must be a popular habit there!

Agnes Mildew said...

Apologies to all who have left comments and I have not got back...life is toooo busy at the moment!

Keli: As I was the founder member of the Flash Agnes fan club, I attempted to pass on the leadership reins to my friend but she ran, never to be seen again. Most unfortunate...

Alcoment: It was a rather hilarious sight - me on my back while a flashing man ran down the toy aisle.

Heather & Fish: When you have gone as long as I have without sight, it's not 'ew', it's 'ooh?'

Matt: I guess it could have been for ventilation purposes...hadn't considered that!

WWG: Thanks for dropping by!

DS: Good to see you back from your hols and hope you had fun. It was certainly one way to while away the time for the men!

Stealth said...

Your story reminded me of my first (and thank God, only) flasher/ whacker. It was freezing cold and I pulled up to a drive thru resturant after a concert. My friends were in the car and this guy in a convertible with the top down pulls up next to us. He is going at it and offers us $50 to watch him finish. I was literally nauseated at the sight of him. I told the drive-thru lady to call the police and the man sped away (with no tag on his car). Ewww! I cringe just to think about it.

Agnes Mildew said...

Stealth: That's not pleasant, at all. I hope that the drive thru' staff got to the police quicker than they get your order to the window.

Amel's Realm said...

YIKES...what's wrong with all those men?!?!?!?! It's sick indeed! So in Oman the one who reported the flasher could pick the punishment? Interesting!!! Glad I never met any flashers...well, except a crazy guy in the streets in Bandung who went about naked everywhere...Scary!!!

Agnes Mildew said...

Amel: Yes, the flashee could choose the flasher's punishment - to a degree. I think the knowledge of this made a lot of women ignore the crimes as most of us realised that it would go no further than that...I don't think I would have liked to have set a retributive charge on my flashers at all.

Anonymous said...

Try these religious nutters for a laugh on masturbation, Feminist or environmental issues.
http://handsacrossoceanministry.wordpress.com/2007/10/14/leaving-the-baby-to-die-on-the-bed/

Agnes Mildew said...

Anon: Thanks for the link - are these people for real? They are so bigoted it is frightening. Never known such a violent reaction to the 'Five Knuckle Shuffle'!!

Agnes Mildew said...

Anon: Having had a second glance at the site, I can now see that it is one massive p*ss-take and an exceptionally good one at that! I shall ensure that all phallic objects are removed from my dressing table drawers and that Madame Palm and her five lovely daughters never crosses my threshold again.