Pervs

Ladies, this is a head's up for you.

Public beaches are exactly that - public.  The larger the population, the greater the diversity of the 'clientele.'  From unsavory types to your Bible-beatin' button downs, they will all find their way to the nearby sands for a little sun, a little surf, and some of that other stuff.  The unsavory types and the other stuff?  Yep, that's today's topic.

I'm working a busy tower.  My supervisor pays me a visit.  Just in front of us and to our north, a group of eight or so bikinied high school girls have been putting some sun on their education-induced pasty skin.  I note two clothed non-swimmers who, as usual, are testing Fate's tangled web, challenging her to snip a thread out of sheer frustration.  My supervisor replies, "Check out the dude on my north side."

Dude (as he shall be known) was blocked from my vision by the vehicle, but with one step I see him and he sees me.  From his appearance, you probably wouldn't think too much about him except the white theme wasn't working and he loves himself his Christian Audigier.  He was clad in a bedazzled white baseball cap, a white parka that dropped just below his buttocks, and a white Euro 'Speedo' - the boxer/brief style.  He was standing eight feet away from us, maybe ten feet behind the girls.  His hands were in his parka's pockets.

"His speedo is practically see-through," says my supervisor, "you can totally see his junk."

"Wait?  What?"  I respond.  And then it clicks.  He's perving on those girls.  He's parting his parka and trying to get them to check out his speedo-sheathed sausage.  It's not exposure, but it is sure as hell not appropriate.

We immediately look back in his direction.  At this point we are acting on experience and suspicion alone.  If he was just a tourist sportin' the latest fashion trend and proud of its accentuation of certain manly bits (we see EVERYTHING on our beaches) he would probably take a photo or two of the lifeguard vehicle and then be on his way.  Dude didn't do that.  He was scooting to the parking lot watching us watch him (and the water).

In the lot he tried the ol' change of clothing routine, but it didn't work.  We stood.  We pointed at him.  We made it very clear to Dude that we were on to him.   He climbed into his copper-tinted Corolla and left the lot.

And here's the rub.  He probably drove to another beach, looked for his next batch of ladies, but this time well away from an open lifeguard tower.  Yes, we do talk to each other and share information about freaks like Dude, but that doesn't mean we'll spot him the next time.  Or the next.  Or the next.  Thankfully this dumbass was so driven by his basest instincts that he was willing to pursue them within eight feet of two lifeguards.  What is scary, is that he was so driven by his basest instincts that he was willing to pursue them within eight feet of two lifeguards.

So ladies, be aware.  The guy who lays directly behind you?  There is a chance he's staring at your crotch, especially if you are lying in the sand with legs apart.  And if he has a camera...yes, exactly, he's probably filming you too.

Sorry if this is making you uncomfortable.  You need to know.  Our public beaches have pervs, and they are counting on your ignorance.

If we see it we address it.  Nothing chases Dude and his brethren away quicker than public acknowledgment.  I've walked up to a group of women unaware of the camera recording their every move and loudly announced, "Ladies, that man in the safari hat directly behind you is filming you!    If you don't wish to be recorded let him know!"  I then looked directly at the man and said, "I know what you are doing and now they know.  Get out out of here!"  He left. They almost always do.

Almost.  And that's the problem.  Technically, within the framework of the law, they haven't done anything illegal.  Immoral, inappropriate, creepy?  Absolutely, but in this day and age of ubiquitous cell and/or video cameras there is no law that explicitly forbids garbage such as Dude from pursuing his agenda in the public arena.  He exposes himself?  Broken law.  He touches his no-no in public?  Broken law.  He touches someone else without consent?  Broken law.  He stares, thinks, and snaps a picture or two?  No law broken.  The smart ones know this.

But the smart (and dumb) ones don't like attention.  They don't like people calling them out.  They don't like people taking their photo, which we've done.  They don't like the spotlight.  If the beach had shadows, they would slink about in them.  You want to drive them away?  Bring the surrounding crowd's attention to the perv.  Bring the lifeguard's attention to the perv.  They hate us.  The feeling is mutual.

© Copyright 2011 David S. Carpenter.  All Rights Reserved.