The other day I wrote how older men stare at me in the shower at the YMCA. Yesterday, a younger man stared at me. He looked like Frankenstein except he did not have the bolts in his neck and the green skin. He did not stare with lust in his eyes like the older men. He had that blank Frankenstein stare.
Frankenstein never moved his head. He followed me with his eyes. His face remained blank. When I looked at him he looked away. Then he would resume staring at me once I looked away. He stood motionless, with the shower water hitting his back, staring at me. His eyes followed me when I finished and walked to the towel-drying area. Again, he would look away when I looked back.
What the hell was Frankenstein thinking while he stared at me? Did I remind him of an electrical wire? A dark lightning bolt? A chocolate bar? Who knows?