Our second or third person was an elderly man who needed a bit of help with washing. I have to mention that this was the first man that I had to fully wash (the only other male I've ever had to wash only needed his back done). So I was a bit antsy to begin with. Yah, touching a stranger’s ZOMGPENIS!!1! can be a pretty awkward situation. But I think that I handled myself pretty well. I didn’t even blush when my supervisor yelled at me: ‘Don’t forget the foreskin!’ from the other end of the bathroom. Ah, good times.
It all went well, I washed, he rinsed; we were comfortable (as comfortable as you can be when there’s one naked person in the room). Apparently random naked male bodies don’t scare me the way I thought it would, this is a good thing, I suppose.
So all was going well until he had to step out of the shower to get dried off. He’s not the best walker so he needs some help getting around, or at least pretends that he does. See where I’m headed with this story? I stand there with the towel, waiting for him to get out and stand on the mat so that I could start drying him off. I see his hand reaching out and grabbing my arm, no biggie right? Right. I’m not a big fan of strangers touching me in general but this is something I have to shrug off while working here. People are going to hold onto you, period.
I think I should mention that there are four people in total in this room right now. Me, the elderly man, my supervisor and the elderly man’s wife, who shall now be referred to as ‘elderly woman’ I know, I’m so creative.
So anyway, he holds onto me and together we walk over to the mat so that he can stand without slipping. I let go of him (meaning: peel his hand off my arm finger by finger) at this moment my supervisor has a slightly amused look on her face and I’m starting to wonder what kind of bear trap she got me to step in.
I start to try his back and he reached out for a bit of the large towel I was using for his back. Or so I thought! (Cue dramatic music)
When I looked at the direction his hand was going, I noticed that it was going less in the direction of the towel and more in the direction of my lady bits. Excuse you? Yes, that is what I said. The best thing about this all is that the surprise made it all happen in slow motion. So I subtly put the towel in his hand, which he not so subtly ignored, never stopping his journey towards the fanny (I’m totally going to try to sneak in as many different kinds of slang for vagina as I can without sounding vulgar). Since this didn’t work I took his hand and pretended to be very interested in drying off his armpit and it seemed like he briefly forgot that he wanted to grab the Sand Patch South of Nantucket. Phew.
But, alas, this didn’t take long. As soon as I let go, there went the journey towards the Vajayjay once again. Seriously? Does he not understand by now that the vulva space is very much private? This aint the vagina monologues! Goodness gracious.
Ah well, I managed to dodge his attempts even though he still managed to grab my arm again, but that wasn’t all too bad.
But then, oh but then.
I had to rapport what I had done in the big book of care whatever whatever and I totally forgot what I was supposed to be looking out for. And then, BAM, he totally grabbed me and would.not.let.go. Holy shit I panicked, I hate to say it but I did. Because GAHcreepyoldmantouchingme.
I peeled him off me and RAN.
Where was my supervisor during all of this, you wonder? Well let me tell you. She was in the corner LAUGHING HER ASS OFF. Some help she was, right? At least 'Elderly Woman' helped me out by yelling 'WOULD YOU LET THE POOR GIRL GO SHE DOES NOT LIKE TO BE TOUCHED BY YOU' during the entire process.
oh. my. goodness.
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