The Accidental Voyeur

6 January 2002
Victor says this is a true story

I am an accidental voyeur.

Recently I had the good fortune to holiday on an unimportant island in the Mediterranean. My hotel was in the nice old part of a nice old town, set in ornamental gardens. The clientele was predictable: leathery, hibernating pensioners and packagers desperate for a week of winter sun.

The climb from town was steep but rewarding: lush palms framing man-made waterfalls. Walking back in the rain one lunchtime, replete with cake and cafe con leche, I was gearing up for a dip in the hotel pool. At the top of the second set of steps I found a young gentleman of Spanish extraction sitting on a bench. He was clean and well-dressed. His pants were round his ankles. He looked me straight in the eye, tugging violently at his nob with both hands. Here was a picture of unflinching concentration.

I smiled and started up the next set of steps. Then it dawned on me: he had been wanking. What's more, I hadn't been at all shocked.

I began to deconstruct the event: had my arrival taken him by surprise, or had I been anticipated? Had I been a catalyst to onanism? Too late I remembered the Spanish for "very small" and began to play out alternative scenarios in which I snidely put him in his place. I had had sex thrust upon me, and I hadn't batted an eyelid.

That night a wind-storm of unexpected ferocity gathered over the island. The double doors and obligatory continental shutters leading from the bedroom to the balcony rattled and whistled respectively. Outside could be heard the creak and thud of damaged trees, and the thrashing of errant guttering and plastic garden furniture.

The wind triggers the fire alarm. There is shouting in the corridor. Bloke goes to investigate and is disappointed to find no emergency. It is 3am. After the panic of waking suddenly I find it difficult to go back to sleep, so I decide to venture out onto the balcony to have a look at the storm.

Standing there in my pyjamas I watch sheet lightning strike the Atlantic. I am about to go back inside, when I catch some movement on next-door's balcony. I squint at the darkness.

She is tanned and curvy, with long, wavy, blonde hair. He is stocky, with a dark crew cut. She is perched on the railings; he is entering her from below. They are naked.

I must be only ten feet away, but they don't appear to have noticed me. I consider introducing myself, exchanging pleasantries, just to see whether it would break their stride. I chicken out and go back inside, determined that Bloke should share my fun.

He pokes his head round the shutters, retreats, then has another peek. "It looks quite dangerous", he whispers.

I, meanwhile, am reviewing my situation. I am beginning to feel typecast.

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
27 October 2003. Victor writes: Our Tune
6 October 2003. Victor writes: Sucking face (in a public place)
15 September 2003. Victor writes: You got any ID?
25 August 2003. Victor writes: Blood on the Boulevard
4 August 2003. Victor writes: In (paren)theses
10 July 2003. Victor writes: Island Fling
19 June 2003. Victor writes: Back (back) and forth (and forth)
2 June 2003. Victor writes: 300 clowns, 13 eight-year olds
12 May 2003. Victor writes: The swings and roundabouts of outrageous fortune
21 April 2003. Victor writes: ...just sitting there quietly contemplating suicide
31 March 2003. Victor writes: Victoria
6 March 2003. Victor writes: Relevant experience
17 February 2003. Victor writes: You will eat chips and go nowhere
27 January 2003. Victor writes: A bushy fish for fishy Mr Bush (after Juvenal)
6 January 2003. Victor writes: The Accidental Voyeur
16 December 2002. Victor writes: Gripper goes bang
25 November 2002. Victor writes: Bediquette
4 November 2002. Victor writes: Where have all the spastics gone?
14 October 2002. Victor writes: An Immodest Proposal
23 September 2002. Victor writes: Fastscan masterplan
2 September 2002. Victor writes: Dry Humping Social Club
12 August 2002. Victor writes: Beat the Mongol
22 July 2002. Victor writes: What life is not
1 July 2002. Victor writes: Stupor heroes
6 June 2002. Victor writes: Dry
13 May 2002. Victor writes: Muppet Suite
18 April 2002. Victor writes: gingermingeninja
25 March 2002. Victor writes: Sodomize with Pukka Pies
28 February 2002. Victor writes: Dave's problem
4 February 2002. Victor writes: King of the Aisles
10 January 2002. Victor writes: Here come the decorator gimps.
17 December 2001. Victor writes: Make war, not supper.
22 November 2001. Victor writes: Cough
29 October 2001. Victor writes: vbarnesinstruments.com
4 October 2001. Victor writes: Green Gauges
10 September 2001. Victor writes: Blind weed
16 August 2001. Victor writes: Snout!
23 July 2001. Victor writes: You're not going to put this in a clown are you?
28 June 2001. Victor writes: What is a droll?
4 June 2001. Victor writes: Burt Pakamak
10 May 2001. Victor writes: Board to Death
12 April 2001. Victor writes: Tricolon with anaphora?
22 March 2001. Victor writes: Point of View
26 February 2001. Victor writes: Goth's Dinner
1 Feburary 2001. Victor writes: Les Miserables
4 January 2001. Victor writes: Flat-packed furniture
14 December 2000. Victor writes: Deliverance
20 November 2000. Victor writes: Bottomry: Exorcising Ghosts
26 October 2000. Victor writes: Body Art
2 October 2000. Victor writes: Disney must die
7 September 2000. Victor writes: Ice-cream in Offworld
14 August 2000. Victor writes: I like sweets that taste of medicine
26 June 2000. Victor writes: I've seen the future, and it's feathered

We are all Upsideclown: Dan, George, James, Jamie, Matt, Neil, Victor.

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