Stranger danger
You're not to know, are you? I could have shaken hands with one of them or shared a confessional with another. To go by the news reports, they lurk any and everywhere — just waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting and the innocent.
They're what my mum used to call "strangers".
"Don't talk to strangers, son", she'd say.
"Why, mum?"
"Just don't", she'd insist.
And to this day, even as an adult, I always wait to be introduced before I talk to anyone. On a train or bus I keep to myself. In a taxi I don't say a word.
The care with which I was taught to address the world is now being confirmed. My mum's suspicions were right — beware of strangers.
You don't have to be Havelock Ellis or Krafft-Ebing to know what devilish deeds strangers are capable of. My mum knew all about that without having it explained in graphic detail. But these days we can finger them.
Some, I understand, teach God's word dressed in a cassock. Others wear a wig and sit on the bench. They're diplomats, coppers, scout masters and teachers — all after the same thing: me.
It's a wonder I've survived for so long with my purity intact. To this day I am innocent of such deeds. And I owe it all to my mum, who first taught me of the stranger danger.
Mind you, I don't go out much. My mum and I stay at home most days. When we hear about all those paedophilers walking the streets, we know we're doing the right thing. Preverts, the lot of them, sexual preverts preying on the young and innocent.
It amazes me that something as widespread as this is only now treated with concern. My mum knew all about these things years ago. "They're sick, sick, sick", she'd say. "That's men for you, my little darling. They want one thing, and one thing only."
Then she'd give me a hug and say: "Promise me you'll never do things like that with your John Thomas".
"I promise, Mum", I'd say. "I'll only use it to do wees."
So all this news of preverts everywhere has come as no surprise to me and my mum.
"I told you so", she says to me.
"You did, didn't you, mum. You told me how sick the world was."
"Oh darlin'. You're as pure as the driven snow."
And I am. I guess with the world like it is, I'm fortunate to remain uncontaminated by it all. But sometimes, I wish I had a friend as pure of heart and as clean of body as I am.
By Dave Riley