In which Teenage Chickenlady does not swear or run away
Many years ago when I was still at school I had the misfortune to witness a rather unpleasant crime.


I was in the Sixth form and allowed to leave the school grounds early if all my classes for the day had finished – this was a very strict girls’ convent school and therefore we were not permitted to come and go as we pleased – imagine Prisoner Cell Block H with posh Home Counties accents and marginally better haircuts.

So one Friday afternoon I was waiting outside the school for the bus into town. I was alone, in uniform - my very sexy pea-green uniform which could usually kill all teenage desire at sixty paces. The main road was deserted.

A boy from the local comprehensive school walked up to the bus stop and stood next to me. He was truly something to behold – remember Plug from The Bash Street Kids in the Beano? This lad was his ugly brother – buck teeth, protruding ears, googly eyes and all in all a face only a mother or a plastic surgeon could love.

He stands there next to me with a sports bag held in front of him…and then it starts….the furtive tugging. I knew exactly what he was doing and had to try very hard not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it – here at a bus stop, on a main road, in broad daylight right outside a convent school!

But also I felt a little fear and hope that he would stop or go away or the bus would pull up right now.

It didn’t.

He spoke to me, “Can I kiss you?” Said as he moved the bag away to reveal an open fly but the mouse had run back to its hole.

“No! Go away! Leave me alone!” I replied with all the indignation and arrogance of a sixteen year old Chickenlady. He stepped forward and put his hand on my backside.

He was about the same age and height as me but must have weighed around six or seven stone to my nine – if I’d roundhoused him with my school bag I could have at least winded him if not done some serious damage…but I was a nice catholic schoolgirl, privately educated and brought up to believe that the pen is mightier than the sword – perhaps I should have stabbed him with my left handed osmiroid fountain pen.

But instead I did what any good girl does,
“Stop it please or I’ll scream. Now leave me alone!” and stepped away.

Why didn’t I run back into school? Well then I’d miss my bus and this oik was not going to make me miss my bus!

He stepped back and resumed the frantic tugging behind his bag whilst leering at me.

Like a magician he removed the bag again but rather than announcing “Tah Dah!” he drooled, “I fancy you.”

And there it hung, the second erect penis I had ever seen (I’m not counting the ‘plumber’ flasher as I thought that was pink piping).

I looked at it.

I looked at him.

He looked pleadingly at me.

“Go away! Leave me alone! I’ll scream!” I shouted at him – no swearing and no running away – I still find that odd looking back at my younger self.

We stood like that for what seemed like hours – every so often he would deflate like a bouncy castle at the end of the day, the bag would go back in place, his eyes would glaze over and his right arm would pump like a barmaid at a beer festival, except faster. Then the bag would be removed and I would tell him to go away.

It was a Kafka-esque Freudian nightmare with a side order of misplaced class hatred – I was at the private school on a scholarship and not a rich bitch – if he’d looked at my shoes he’d have seen that…but then again that could have sent him off into further paroxysms of desire.

Anyway, at last the bus pulled up and he shuffled off into the nearby bushes. I got on, paid my fare and sat down. I didn’t mention a word to the driver, any passengers or even my parents when I got home. I sat shaking on the bus, screaming in my head, I was incredulous – how could any of these people not realise what had just happened?

Why didn’t I tell anyone then? Because I had a date that night and had I told my parents I would have missed out on the date.

The story does go on and on – as is usual in my life everything is an epic and nothing is straightforward. I saw him again, twice.

If ever there is a QOTW about being in court I’ll recount How Teenage Chickenlady Made a Solicitor Look a Fool – subtitled My Finest Moment.

Apologies for length but he just wouldn’t go away!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:11, 13 replies)

*winces visibly*
Ooo, you paint a very vivid picture - and I squirm to recognise those trapped-in-a-horror-you're-too-nice-to-get-out-of moments.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:16, closed)

genius
... perhaps I should have stabbed him with my left handed osmiroid fountain pen... click!
(twiceydrinker hmmm is it pint time?, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:24, closed)

I hated myself for laughing at this
You inspired some very complex emotions !
I totally, TOTALLY understand.
I await your solicitor story with bated everything. SF.
(Siouxfan I'm not staring at you, I am just short sighted, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:27, closed)

Nasty.
I totally understand the not being able to do anything part :( shame you didn't stab him though, might have sunk into his pervy brain...
( Maladicta, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:34, closed)

Eww. I don't understand the mentality of a guy who would do that... Is there some part of their brains that think "eventually this highly advanced seduction technique is going to pay off"?

For e.g.: My lady was on the tube the other night, and a gentleman (ha!) pressed his erection in to one of her bum cheeks. She moved, he re-pressed. She didn't say anything (which I found unusual), and ended up getting off and running away at the next stop.

How I wish I had been there. I would've announced his activities to the whole carriage!

Anyhoo - click for bravery! *salute*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:49, closed)

Left handed pen?
I thought you were taking the proverbial but it turns out there is such a thing... You live and learn.
(b3tamax Mate, you're fat and I'll throw you in the river, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 12:51, closed)

Ah petal....
You must have that come and perv at me demeanour.
( girlinthehole, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 13:20, closed)

eeeeeuw!
what a dirty rotten scalliwag.
I can totally understand you not reporting the incident to anyone - makes one's flesh crawl..

*click* for empathy
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 13:28, closed)

Ah....
I did eventually report it - the following day. But I still didn't tell my parents until the HR manager of BHS drove me home as I was a hysterical mess - delayed shock I think.

And he was prosecuted...and I was key witness in his court case.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 13:41, closed)

oh god
What an utterly absurd thing to do (him not you, clearly)

I also eagerly await your solicitor story.
( catness, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 14:06, closed)

roses
He used to give me roses
I wish he could again
But that was on the outside
And things were different then

We build our world together
With a love so clear and strong
But that was on the outside
Where did I go wrong?

On the inside the sun still shines
And the rain falls down
But the sun and rain are prisoners too
When morning comes around

Last night I dreamed we were together
Sharing all the love we'd known
'Til I had to face the nightmare
Of waking up alone

On the inside the sun still shines
And the rain falls down
But the sun and rain are prisoners too
When morning comes around

On the inside the roses grow
They don't mind the stoney ground
But the roses here are prisoners too
When morning comes around

He used to give me roses
I wish he could again
But that was on the outside
And things were different then
(little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 16:17, closed)

@little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy
One of the most beautiful and tragic love songs of our time. I always wanted to do some kind of industrial cover version of it.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 16:47, closed)

OH GOD
FLASHBACKS.

I was on a train with a friend once after seeing a film (about 11PM - we were about 16) and this dude came up beside us and started up... I was petrified, but my friend turned and frowned a little before asking loudly, "WHAT are you doing?"

His response? "Masturbating..."

We got the train stopped and the little turd arrested and charged.
(xiaomiao, Thu 21 Feb 2008, 8:44, closed)