So one day on my way back from a job in Woolwich I was waiting on the train platform for the regular train back to London Bridge. As I stood in the same spot as I did every day reading my latest novel choice I was oblivious to the man who came up and stood by me until he asked me if my book was nice. I gave him a distracted  “yes thank you” reply and went back to finding out what embarrassing thing Poppy was about to do to get Harry to notice her now that she’d given him a makeover and realised that he was actually THE ONE. Yes this was the extent of my daily reading material. No Fanon for this chick.

The train finally arrived and I sat in a section by the window and the man sat opposite me. He was an African man in his 40s, slight build and not unattractive but I just wasn’t interested. I dove back into my book when my cousin called me from Africa. As we caught up (RiP dear cuz) I noticed the man fiddling with his newspaper.

Still oblivious I laughed at the latest family gossip. I looked again and he had his dick out of his jeans looking at me like I would be impressed. He hid it from the other travellers with his newspaper. Who knew a Metro would come in so handy? What the fuck was wrong with this fool! This was no way to start a conversation with a stranger.

I honestly didn’t know what to do so as I tried to explain to my cousin what was going on and my cousin was like, “Sis, move into another carriage”. Woken from my paralysis I moved into another part of the train and squashed myself between two people who looked like they would be good in a tussle. That was a long train journey home.

Eventually I got home and the full extent of what had happened hit me. But being pragmatic it was over, I hadn’t been touched and it was over.

Then I saw him a week later and realised that he was a local. It could happen again I reported it to the Woolwich po po who are in no way worthy of the same shout out as the Chelsea po po. They sent me a letter about Victim Support. Their advice is to move away from the perpetrator, report it immediately and not to panic as most flashers aren’t violent. Erm, yeah thanks for that.

And thus ends another sad tale on unnecessary male behaviour.

Happy Mother’s Day!

© Chelsea Black

Chelsea Black is a writer. Romantically seeking her Fubo (future boyfriend) she often gets distracted by misadventures. She is currently working on her second book, first baby (sperm to be confirmed) and first real career. Chocolate and cocktails are food groups