It happened a few years ago. A man rode by on his bicycle, and waved to me. I waved back, as it is courteous. He seemed to take this as an invitation, and turned his bike around to come talk to me.
From the beginning, it was obvious he was mentally handicapped. He asked my name, and we conversed briefly. Eventually, he asked me if I had holes in my socks. An odd question, no doubt, but he was retarded. "No, I don't," I replied with a smile.
"Prove it," he said. So I thought I would humor him, and pulled up my pant leg to reveal my very much intact socks. To my surprise, he lept at my foot and grabbed my shoe. "That's odd," I thought.
"Can I have my shoe back?"
"Sure, I'll put it back on for you."
My better instincts told me something was afoul. But I went with it. I extended my foot so that he could replace the shoe he had taken. To my surprise, instead of putting my shoe back on, he just took my sock.
"Hey, I trusted you! Give me back my sock."
"I'll put it back he said."
"No way, that's what you said last time, and you stole my sock."
We argued back and forth for a few minutes. Realizing he had a bike, and I had no shoe, I figured he had the upper hand. There was no bargaining, no reasoning with him. I was powerless. Eventually I capitulated. We agreed, I would sit on the curb and he would put my sock and shoe back on.
But I knew his tricks. I was sitting on my other foot. So I gave him my foot, and to my surprise, instead of putting my sock back on, he started licking my foot and rubbing it all over his face. I was shocked and shouted. A look came over his face, as if he suddenly realized he had crossed the line. He dropped my shoe and sock and rode off on his bike into the sunset, never to be seen again.
Retarded Guy : 1, Me : 0
From the beginning, it was obvious he was mentally handicapped. He asked my name, and we conversed briefly. Eventually, he asked me if I had holes in my socks. An odd question, no doubt, but he was retarded. "No, I don't," I replied with a smile.
"Prove it," he said. So I thought I would humor him, and pulled up my pant leg to reveal my very much intact socks. To my surprise, he lept at my foot and grabbed my shoe. "That's odd," I thought.
"Can I have my shoe back?"
"Sure, I'll put it back on for you."
My better instincts told me something was afoul. But I went with it. I extended my foot so that he could replace the shoe he had taken. To my surprise, instead of putting my shoe back on, he just took my sock.
"Hey, I trusted you! Give me back my sock."
"I'll put it back he said."
"No way, that's what you said last time, and you stole my sock."
We argued back and forth for a few minutes. Realizing he had a bike, and I had no shoe, I figured he had the upper hand. There was no bargaining, no reasoning with him. I was powerless. Eventually I capitulated. We agreed, I would sit on the curb and he would put my sock and shoe back on.
But I knew his tricks. I was sitting on my other foot. So I gave him my foot, and to my surprise, instead of putting my sock back on, he started licking my foot and rubbing it all over his face. I was shocked and shouted. A look came over his face, as if he suddenly realized he had crossed the line. He dropped my shoe and sock and rode off on his bike into the sunset, never to be seen again.
Retarded Guy : 1, Me : 0
