The Phantom Jerker

(from the true-life adventures of Dave)

One day I was walking back to work from my lunch break, and walked past this crazy-looking transient guy. He was dressed in blue jeans that had brown stains all over them, and a red-flannel shirt that was stained like an automotive technician had used it for weeks and never washed it. This guy's hair was black and wild, desheveled like he had tumbled down a hill. His skin was brown, even though he was obviously a white guy, and he smelled terrible -- a weird combination of pants that had been crapped in, pissed in, and under-arm odor. It was such a strong odor that few people would ever forget it if they ever smelled it. The man was walking in a "stalking" manner. He'd stare at women as they walked by, put on a lecherous grin, and his eyes would follow them.

I thought it was kind of weird, but then, I see all sorts of transients and mentally-ill people downtown where I work, because the welfare office and the free health clinic are in the same building that I work out of. So I continued on my way, and soon forgot about it. Unknown to me, after I got back to work, this transient guy had walked into my building, following some woman and her baby to the free health clinic on the first floor. As she waited in line, the transient stood a few feet behind her, making heavy-breathing noises. Then he put his hands down the front of his pants and started to play with himself. The woman got seriously freaked out, and someone called for a security guard to get the guy out of the building. Unfortunately, the transient guy walked into the elevator, and went to a different floor.

I contined to work, not knowing any of the events that were going on down on the lower floors. Apparently, the transient repeated his lecherous behavior on another floor, and security guards were going from floor to floor trying to find him. It was about an hour after I got back from lunch that nature called. So I went over to the men's room on my floor, magazine in hand. As I sat in the stall, reading my magazine and enjoying my relaxing bowel movement, I heard a woman outside of the bathroom shout "Eeeeeew!". Then the bathroom door opened and I smelled that strange stench which I immediately remembered as the transient I had walked by earlier that day. I could see him through the gaps in the door of my stall. He walked over to a urinal directly in front of me. I could see his feet from under the door of my stall.

As I sat there, trying to breath among the toxic fumes that he emitted, I heard the sound of his belt hitting the floor. The guy just undid his pants, and dropped them on the floor, underwear and all. It was very odd, because he was stading in front of a urinal. Then I heard him start grunting. Only it wasn't the grunting of a man with a urinary tract problem. His grunting was accompanied by the rustle of arm against body, and his legs could be seen swaying forward and back with each grunt. I tried to keep my composure during this event, trying to hold back the mixed laughter and revulsion I was feeling.

Suddenly, as the guy was in mid-jerk, the bathroom door opened, and someone walked in. I heard him shout "Oh, MAN!", in horror, then he immediately turned around and exited. I could hear several people talking outside the bathroom. "Call security," someone said. The transient kept jerking away, grunting, and enjoying himself. I stayed in the stall, paralyzed. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to have to squeeze by him in the crampped men's room, or ask him to move so I could open the stall door to get out. I just sat there and waited for him to leave. Eventually he let out a long sigh. He flushed the urinal, pulled up his pants, and left. I thought to myself "Thank goodness he didn't use the sink to wash his hands," otherwise I'd have to deal with avoiding his semen on the faucet fixtures.

So I folded up my magazine, wiped, pulled up my pants, flushed, and got out of the stall. I washed my hands, dried them with a paper towel, and exited the bathroom. As I got out, two security guards were escorting the transient guy into the elevator. He had a big smile on his face, still. It was the same goofy, leering grin he had as he stared at the women outside, earlier. The security guards were two big guys. One was very serious looking, obviously more conservative. The other security guard had a strained grin on his face, as though he were trying to keep from laughing his fool head off. I know exactly how he felt. I smiled, too, and probably for the same reason. Several people, including, presumably, the guy who walked in and saw the guy jerking off, were laughing, and talking about the lurid event that they just witnessed. I looked at them, as I was trying to hold back a belly-laugh, and commented "The Phantom jerker strikes again!" We all burst out laughing, then one-by-one, we each went back to our jobs. To this day, the event is a favorite coffee-break story around the office.