As I walked past the Royal Sovereign’s desolate carpark last Wednesday evening, I caught the gaze of an unfamiliar man, hunched over behind an industrial-sized bin.
Wearing a dirtied grey tracksuit torn about the knees, it was clear he had little regard for the weight of societal expectation, nor the oppressiveness of personal belongings.
His gestures were ferocious; nay, violent. His stare was unfaltering – perturbed yet resolute.
What lead this mysterious being to seek refuge in that darkened corner?
As I neared, I understood.
He was masturbating.
A thought: maybe my mother was right when she said I attracted strange men?
It’s curious it didn’t occur to me the first time a homeless man masturbated at me, but I think I was texting at the time.
Images via Giphy.