Another Chapter From The Life Of The Queen Of Freak Magnets

So, last night I went over to my nineteen-year-old sister-in-laws's dorm room to fetch some papers my husband needed her to print. It was a routine visit, but when I got there the door was open. I didn't quite know the protocol, but I remembered my own dorm days, so i just called out, "Knock Knock!" and walked in.

There was a dark-skinned fellow in there, talking to my little sister-in-law. I decided to assume there was nothing amiss and said hello. He stepped up and introduced himself in a speech so mumbled and unintelligible that I couldn't understand his name at all. This, combined with his feeble handshake, led me to believe the man was mentally disabled. He stood there, saying nothing, staring at me unabashedly with mouth agape in what can only be described as a gawk. His tongue ran across the corner of his mouth several times with an audible slurping sound.

"So, where are you from?" I asked, desperate to relieve the intense awkwardness.

"Bahamas." He replied, licking the corner of his mouth again. He never blinked.

"Oh, the Bahamas!" I gushed. "I would like to go to the Bahamas! What a wonderful place to be from! A beautiful place...in the pictures I've seen."

By this time my sister-in-law was edging toward the doorway where I stood.

"I was just leaving." She murmured, head down, obviously uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the whole situation took on a more sinister cast.

"Oh! All right." I hadn't been aware that she was coming with me, but I understood that she needed rescuing. No prob. Big Sis is here. On our way out, the fellow opened doors for us repeatedly. We thanked him politely, but all the time I was mentally instructing him to back away from my sister-in-law. No likey.

"So, I assume he is mentally disabled." We might not have been quite out of earshot when I made this observation.

"What? No, I don't think so." She replied.

"Really? My mom's a special ed teacher. I really think there's something going on there." I think this is the same concept as people using their father's priesthood for spiritual purposes. But really, I have had a little more contact with my mom's students that the average kid. I had been positive that I'd identified a classic case of mental retardation.

"No. Well. maybe."

She told me she'd had her bedroom door open because she was trying to prepare a carload of her things for me to help her take to Shayne's and my apartment, where she will store her "college" belongings until she returns in the fall. As we talked it turned out that this Bahamian fellow was twenty-four years old, and was going out in Civil Engineering. Civil Engineering. I pondered this and experienced a profound shift in my perception of what had just transpired. Not only was this man NOT RETARDED, he was of above average intelligence.

Ah ha.

"Yeah, I saw the way he was looking at me, but I thought he was retarded." I told her a little about the sort of men I tend to attract -- men from cultures where most of the women are thin and a young, fat woman can be difficult to find, like Kenya, Mexico, Tonga, California... the list goes on. These fellows tend to be "ethnic" like the Bahamian. They are used to dark-skinned women, and my fair skin, red hair and green eyes appear incredibly exotic to them.

I felt a little protective of my sister-in-law, as she was dealing with these guys at the tender age of nineteen, but a moment later I remembered that I had to fend off Gingivitis John at age fifteen, The Crazy Kenyan at age seventeen, and then The Homeless Mexican and The Tattooed Tongan both arrived when I was exactly her age. I understood that this is all just part of growing up, but at the same time I felt compassion for my little sis. It's freaky when The Freaks like you and try to hook up.

Really, I think my sister-in-law is probably better off that I was at her age. She's very assertive. The key to dealing with these guys is to be polite but firm. Don't step on their manhood, but let them know there's no chance. This is a lesson that I learned early on, which is how I earned my title as The Queen of Freak Magnets. If anyone out there would challenge my rule, let's get together and trade Freak stories. I'd be happy to hand over my crown!

For the time being, I'm including The Bleak Bahamian in my list of Freaks, and I will share him with my Sister-in-law as we were both confronted by him.