Sexual Harrassment

Sexual Harrassment ~
"Hey Carol! Where did you find your new boyfriend?"
"He fell off a charm bracelet. Isn't he adorable?"
And so saying, the wench pinched me on the cheek and hugged me closer to her enormous bosom.

It was all I could do not to spill my beer.

The day had started off so well too. I was hitchhiking out of Bega, New South Wales in Australia and my goal for the day was a fishing village a little further down the coast, with the picturesque sounding name of Eden. It was my first attempt at hitching since arriving Down Under and I was wondering how I would fare. As it happened, I'd barely put down my pack when the first car of the day came by and screeched to a halt. A young, hippy couple, with a very large dog and a very small child sharing the the backseat. Dog and child squished up to make room for me and my pack and we were soon bowling down the road.

"Only 5K mate," said the driver "but we'll put you in a much better hitching spot. I certainly hoped so because it looked like the middle of nowhere to me and a long walk back into town if the hitching turned out to be a bust. It nearly was too - I had to wait a full four minutes before the next vehicle came along but this too, pulled up obligingly. A logger in a pick up truck, which the Aussies refer to as a "Ute". (Nothing to do with "My Cousin Vinnie", it's short for "Utility".) who just happened to be heading to Eden himself.

The road wound us along the coast, and inland, then back again. Forests of eucalyptus gum trees lined both sides of the road and the smell of camphor hung in the air like an pharmacists' convention. Every couple of kilometers my driver would pull over to show me some natural feature, such as a grove of ancient prehistoric looking ferns, a waterfall, or bush trail. He told me to keep my eyes peeled for kangaroos (I was yet to see my first) but the only ones we saw were already providing fodder for the scavengers, the sad results of lost arguments with cars. We did see a team of cowboys, (termed "Jackaroos") rounding up cows on horseback, so that almost made up for it.

All too soon we rolled into the metropolis of Eden. One street, half a dozen shops, a campsite and a pub. I toyed with the idea of pushing further along but as we were nearly on the Victorian border, and I had yet to look at a map of that fair state, and as I was in no rush, I decided to put up my tent and stay awhile. That and lunch occupied the rest of the morning and with the sun high overhead, I set out to explore the town. Pretty though it was, there wasn't really too much to occupy the mind so after a couple of turns along the main street, I decided to check out the single pub.

You've seen the old movies where the stranger walks into the bar, and the piano player stops, a hush falls on the room and everyone turns to stare. This place didn't have a piano but the rest of the effect was the same. Not because the patrons were unfriendly you understand; I just don't think they'd ever seen anyone as...small as me. I swear everyone in there must have been at least 300lbs, all tattooed, mostly bearded. And yes, I'm including the women.
The idea of turning and running away flitted through my head but a shout came out of the crowd.
"Hey look! It's the hitchhiker from this morning! He's from Scotland everyone." It was the hippy couple who had given me my first ride and having received this glowing endorsement, I was accepted into the fold and soon had a frosty beer mug in my hand. The crowd formed a respectful circle around me and interrogated me with questions.

"What's your name?"
"Whereabouts in Scotland are you from?"
"What do you think of Maggie Thatcher?"
"Who were you supporting in the Rugby Grand Final yesterday?"
I can only imagine my answers met with their approval because nobody began swinging punches and before long, I even relaxed my sphincter enough to start enjoying myself.

It was then that Carol appeared.

"Oh, let me get a look at him" she bawled; pushing her bulk through the crush. I don't think I've ever seen a woman quite so large and if it wasn't for the others using her given name, I still wouldn't be entirely sure that she was in fact, female.
"Ohmygooooooooooddd! Isn't he just precious? I'm going to take him home and put him on a shelf."
I wasn't entirely sure she was kidding but I found myself accepting another beer as she perched on a bar stool and hugged me tighter than I'll ever want to be hugged again.

It was a good twenty minutes before I was able to extricate myself. During which time, I was poked, prodded, stroked and fondled with a level of detail that only a few people have attempted on me prior to earning their medical degrees. Once out of the bar I headed back to my campsite and hid in my tent, praying that Carol wouldn't find out where I was. It was a good hour before I ventured out, and even then it was to head in the opposite direction to lose myself on a bush trail for the rest of the day.

Australian men have a reputation of being boorish and chauvinistic, particularly when it comes to their treatment of women. However, I'm here to testify that at least some of the women are more than capable of giving as good as they get.

And I've only just realized...what if she reads this and tracks me down? Crikey!