What kind of sicko freaks are out there?

Nevermind, don't answer that question.

After visiting Bryan, I called Roman to see if he was doing Undie Run. On a whim, I decided to go too, and of course I dragged some of the apartmentmates along.

I'd say that it was definitely more festive in years past, but, thankfully, less of a (as Roman calls) cockfest. I swear to you, that is the last time I use that word again.

Maybe it's because it's grown in popularity (yes, that's proper grammar - 'it is' and 'it has') but it was definitely more crowded than I remember. So crowded that it turned out to be less of a run than a walk. Well, maybe a trot. Yes, the Undie Trot. That could be the name of the next dance craze. Yes kids, get down and do the Undie Trot.

Anyhoo, all was well until we hit the end of the route... at which point the front pack immediately turned around. Do you have any idea how scary it is watching a herd of college students (mostly guys) stampeding toward you? Needless to say, I turned around well before I got trampled underfoot. But then... the weirdest shit started happening. Amidst the ruckus and chaos that ensued, I got lost from Roman on the return toward the start. So making my way around the crowd, two girls stop me to ask for a picture. I thought: "dammit, I kinda have to find Roman," but what the hell. I'm about to get their camera to take a picture of the two, but no, they hand off the camera to another guy, with one of them to my left and the other to my right, it turned out that they wanted a picture with me. Considering that it's, well, me, that comes as a bit of a shock, but again, what the hell. It's probably plastered all over Facebook at this very moment. That's not the weirdest part though. I pass this one guy, who looks a bit older than the rest of us. By the end, everyone's laughing, chatting with friends and taking pictures (of themselves, for the most part), but he's standing there alone with his camera.

Leering.

At me.

I can't begin to imagine why, out of a crowd of hundreds, he chooses me. Especially amongst such an expansive crowd, there are definitely more festive - and might I add, attractive - people to take pictures of.

|rant| So there are participants and there are the observers, sure, and we're all out to have a good time. Though it sucks that the people watching from the side aren't joining in - c'mon, going to undie run just to watch? lame - but even so, at least they are there to cheer on friends. This guy: big glasses, big backpack (Asian, if it helps the mental image), and generally kinda dorky - not to be mean, but it's rather atypical of the college fratboys and girls who go to a thing like this. Anyway, he's standing alone, in the middle of the sidewalk, watching people as if looking for a specific target. He spots me, and immediately I notice his camera lens pointed at me. Not at the general landscape, because as soon as I move to get out of the way of his shot, the lens traces my every movement. Weaving through a small crowd, I thought I'd lost him, until I emerged from the other side only to find his camera still following me. I wonder why he was so damned adamant about getting my picture, because, unfortunately, I had to cross his path twice more before the end of the night, and both times the same thing happened. |end rant|

I feel violated.