Valencia, Spain, Summer 2008
We decided to head towards the beach. Victor was driving non-stop for more than 9 hours now so he really needed a break for safety reasons (I can’t drive).
We finally found a car park, near the ocean. After a quick observation we decided we would stop there. Families were coming back from a night bath so it made us feel comfortable. No psychs here for sure!
We folded the car seats to lie down. We thought: finally!! We couldn’t believe it. I wanted to see the ocean but I was too tired and lazy to go out of the car. I didn’t feel that adventurous either after our weird encounters. It occurred to me that we didn’t have any curtains to hide us from the outside world…which made me feel uneasy…
We were chilling out, chatting and smoking weed while waiting for the sandman. The families were gone now. The car park was empty and it seemed like we could finally relax without being seen.
But a few minutes later a car arrived and placed itself not far from us. What seemed to be a couple exited and headed towards the beach. I thought that was pretty casual. Though I remember noticing that there was a big difference between the vulgar flashy clothes of the woman and the sober classical style of the guy… Another car came and the same scenario followed. I don’t remember whose suggestion it was, but the certainty of it being a “prostitute-client” dynamic came upon us.
I thought we had found a nice shelter but to me the vibe became even grimmer. I was now imagining a sick beach, full of rubbish and cadavers. I suddenly felt we was in the midst of insanity. My previous contacts definitely contributed to it*.
Victor was too tired to feel anything about prostitutes. We were finishing our joint…
I have to say I used to think about prostitution being… I don’t know dirty? Like a scam to your body of some sort. I was always fascinated by it though at the same time finding prostitution a really gloomy thing. While it was safe and interesting in theory (books, films…) yet I used to feel uncomfortable to actually see the woman going with the “client”. Although I never thought prostitutes were dirty humans or more dirtier than me, I did think that having sex with so many people is like putting too much dirt on one’s body. I liked prostitutes as I liked every other human being and I treated them the same as everyone else, with respect. Still now. I just didn’t like what they are doing with their bodies. Might have been because of the residues I have from my religious education and because of the limited vision of sex my parents brought me in**.
Victor fell quickly asleep and I was gently cuddling his naked body when I heard something next to our car. The ground on which our vehicle was resting was made of some kind of sharp stones and it definitely sounded like someone was walking silently around us. I got scared and froze for some minutes while trying to hear more. After the longest 2 minutes of my life, I finally persuaded myself to have a look at what was going on. I looked through the window and saw nothing. Why is that? I realised the sound just stopped next to the car as soon as I looked up. No runaway sound. I was sure the stones that got stepped on were so close to the car, but I couldn’t see anything.
My paranoiac nature didn’t need more to get started: paranormal activity, psycho-killer etc. I calmed down and went back on trying to sleep while stroking sleepy Victor. I had kinda of convinced myself that the sound was coming from a non-human inoffensive real animal, even though my instincts and logic knew it must have been made by a human…or a really heavy animal.
A few minutes later, the same noise startled me again. I quickly sat up this time and I was upset because there was nothing to see. I knew something was weird. Curiosity won over fear and I became determined not to go to sleep until I solved this enigma. I thought I should get out of the car if I heard anything again.
Suddenly boom! The same noise on the stones. I was ready. I scanned the area through the window again and I don’t know why but I also had the brilliant idea to look down the side where I was sitting: I saw a big tall and bold man creeping around the vehicle on his knees! As soon as he realised I had seen him, he stood up instantly and trotted off in a really funny way. The stones must have been painful on his bare feet! I saw a better view of him whilst he was hopped away, like a maimed animal. I realised he didn’t have any trousers or pants on him; only a shirt and his bare genitals.
I then wise up pretty quickly about the situation and the fact that he—and the others before—were definitely perverts. I was still baffled by what had just happened. I couldn’t decide if I was scared or amused. I decided to laugh, waking up Victor who didn’t think it was funny at all. Since he was the only one naked we assumed the guy must have been masturbating on him mostly and I have to say I was pushy about the idea because it made me laugh so much!
As I grew up, the people around me tended to think that men don’t usually get abused. Well, I had the proof that it was wrong of course, what was I thinking? Men abusing other men. I was laughing at it and at Victor for being so upset. I confess that the thought of me not being the target made me feel more relaxed about it. But now that I am writing this, I certainly must have been wrong about that. After all, I was bare legged…
Victor asked me to point out where the guy went. We watched that direction and we saw him! He was still there! He was standing a few meters away from us and he was looking at us. I was even more surprised. I thought why? That guy should be damn ashamed now that we had caught him in the act, we’ll surely never see him again! But no. He was standing there like a scarecrow, except his arms were down. Not moving at all and totally facing us. The lower part of his body was hidden by the little sand dune that was separating him from us. Victor went mad, started shouting and moving towards him. The guy stepped back a bit but kept facing us. I kinda of got scared it might turn into a fight or something so I calmed Victor down, laughing but nervously. He replied again that I should stop laughing and that we will now “get the fuck out of there!!”.
On the road again here we are! And I wasn’t laughing any more. It had been hours searching for a place to rest. Everywhere was forbidden or impossible to stop. Whilst searching, we wasted the petrol, tiredness was looming and the perverts got the best of us. Why do we always end up in the wrong place?? What is this night? I felt insecure and deeply frustrated because I didn’t know how to defend myself when it happened. I just got scared or upset and I felt forced to escape twice already.
Maybe I should have let Victor get more mad and punch the guy… But I doubt he would have. That last guy was so big as well! Way bigger and older than Victor. But surely this didn’t mean anything. Maybe we should have fought. Maybe not…
We definitely tried to forget about the masturbators, at least until the end of our holidays. Back home, I was delighted to tell the story to everyone though! All in one, we had our share of adventures and it’s kinda of a more entertaining story to tell than “we were happy, lying down in the sun all day, drinking mojitos…”
My lovely Zeb and Alice for helping me with the grammar, orthography and times.