There it is. If you can read the tiny print, then cool. If not, down the left reads "Vinh's Room, A's Room, Pool Boy's Room, Boyfriend's Room. And then the top bathroom is Me, Boyfriend and A, as previously mentioned, and that lower one is Vinh's and Pool Boy's.
Also, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm using Vinh's name when I never use any real names. Cause fuck him, that's why. And you'll see why.
So ANYWAYS. In that second bathroom you can see the toilet, the alarm clock radio, and the shower. It looks like a messy box. Sorry about that. So fast forward about a month. Its coming up on Halloween. We're all pulling costumes together last minute, except for Vinh, who is putting the finishing touches on a paper-mâché mask of that creepy little character from the SAW movies. I guess his name is Jigsaw or something.
The story starts with a bang, at least from my point of view. Me and Boyfriend were taking a shower and got out to dry off (no, there is no sexy shower part) and got wrapped up in towels and opened the door. Boyfriend was still using the mirror or something and as I opened the door to leave I nearly ran right into Vinh, who was leaving his room. You see how the doors to our bathroom and his bedroom line up. They did better in real life than in my drawing. He was walking down the hall to ask Mr. Pool Boy a question and Pool Boy had just entered the second bathroom for his own shower. Seeing as how Vinh was going to come back in a moment to get back in his room, I opted to stand in the doorway to not crowd the hallway and wait to leave until he was back in his room. While I waited, I glanced into the room through the still open door.
There was an image on the computer of white tile and a light switch. In fact, it looked quite similar to the tile and light switches that graced our bathrooms. But of course, every bathroom looks like that. I heard Vinh knock on the bathroom door down the hall and it was like the noise was echoed. I heard Pool Boy say "Hang on!" from down the hall and on the computer screen a big hairy chest entered into the picture frame, which, of course, was really a video. Nuts bundled in hand, I saw Pool Boy's hairy Italian chest curve around the door next to the light switch as the accompanying vocals came from down the hall. "I'll be out in like ten minutes." Awestruck, I stood in our bathroom doorway trying to process what was happening. The door shut and the hairy chest left the picture. Vinh walked back down the hall toward me and as he proceeded to enter his bedroom, I stammered, "Is that a camera??" He slammed the door behind him. Um, I think that's a yes.
Boyfriend and I walked down to his room and shut the door and I turned and said, "There's a camera. There's a camera in Pool Boy and Vinh's bathroom." Boyfriend laughed. I said again, totally serious, that there was a camera and I had seen Pool Boy's torso on Vinh's computer. Boyfriend laughed a little quieter and more nervous-like and accused me of fucking with him. I insisted and told him exactly what I saw and he became serious. We got dressed and listened for the shower to turn off. When it did we were all over the door. "Pool Boy, get out here, get out here now!" "I'll be out in a minute." he said. "No!! Now!!"
Pool Boy opened the door in a towel, still sopping wet and quite confused. "There's a camera in there" I said. "What?" "There's a camera; it's pointed towards the door and the shower; it's over there." I said, and inadvertently pointed right at the now suspect clock-radio. We toyed with it for a moment and saw that there was a little tiny circle for the AM/PM light, but there was one below it with no specified purpose. We left to let Pool Boy get some pants on. When he came out, we were waiting and he was holding the clock-radio. "Dude, it says on the bottom of it, 'AV Video Device'." He took it apart on the counter and sure enough, the little unspecified circle was a little window for a tiny camera. But how was it getting to the computer? More importantly, why had we never wondered what that random wire was that came out of it and was taped to the wall? Oh.
Pool Boy decided to confront Vinh, who had been in his room with the door shut now for about an hour, and yelled for him to come out to talk. I wish I could've watched him sweat as he saw a full view of our giant faces surveying the "clock-radio" on his monitor. It's actually something we joked about later on, because how did that look? But back to the story. Boyfriend told me we should go into his room and shut the door even though it occurred to me not too long after that my butt was on there several times and so were many other peoples' asses and dicks but let's not get caught up right now. Pool Boy basically asked Vinh what the fuck this was all about, gesturing at the dissected clock-radio, and do you know what that kid said? I bet you can't guess. Here it is. He said, "Dude! Why did you break my clock-radio!!?" Pool Boy, paralyzed in stunned disbelief, didn't even react as Vinh bundled up the parts and ran the clock-radio, or should I say hidden camera device, back to his room. Later that night, when no one was around to see him, Vinh grabbed some of his stuff and high-tailed it down to his old dorm to seek refuge from friends who didn't know yet what had happened. According to most, he told them he was having a fight with Pool Boy or something.
The next night I got a call from Pool Boy, who had finally decided to file charges, and good on him for doing so. Since I was the witness, they wanted me to come down to the station. I took way too long getting there as I assumed he was at the town PD and not the Campus PD, where he, in fact, was. There was a reason for this but I'll talk about it some other time. Down at the station I wrote up my own statement on a computer and got asked a bunch of questions by a cop. One of the most awesome parts about this was that we got to keep a copy of our statements and both of them (written separately) observed that I had identified Pool Boy by his extremely hairy Italian chest. Classic.
Apparently the Campus PD down there are fucking imcompetantes (I might've made up a word) because every so often, Vinh would come back to the place to get more of his stuff!! It was fucking everyone up and everyone would get tense and distracted and no one could do work or all that other shit you do at school. The day after Halloween my Bettie Page wig and my favorite very cute black pumps were missing. I had specifically remembered taking them out of my ride's car Halloween night because they had been such a fucking bitch to carry and I had placed them, wig and all in the shoebox) behind Boyfriend's bedroom door. Now, pretty much every time we left the apartment, I would lock the bedroom door because my parents are paranoid and they raised me to take extra precautions to protect my stuff. That said, it wasn't anyone who didn't live at the place. Pool Boy wouldn't have done it, because why would he? A wouldn't have taken my heels even as a joke because again, why would he. Neither had ever done anything very weird and neither had a girlfriend to give pumps to. Even so, I searched both their rooms, with their knowledge, to make sure I hadn't gone in there to talk and left them there. Last one down was Vinh, who, we now knew, liked to watch our friends dicks as they took a piss. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
He left one night, shortly after the confrontation, and left his door wide open, something he never did. He had spent the day in there cleaning. Figures. I knew that by now, I wouldn't find anything, but went in to tinker around anyways. I peered into things and under things, trying to avoid actually touching anything that belonged to the pervert, and when I was satisfied they had been put elsewhere, I left. He came home that evening and accused me of going into his room while he was gone. He had the evidence on a camera he had set up by his computer and was now accusing me of going through his stuff. I denied "going through" anything of his but admitted to being in his room. He continually told me I had been going through his stuff, to which I responded with a "No" and then to lead me into admitting to going through his stuff, he told me I had been in his room, to which I said that yes, yes I had because I was looking for my shoes. In his frustration of not being able to get me to fess up to "going through" stuff, he kept raising his voice until boyfriend, who can be very loud when he wants to be, yelled from the living room that that was enough and to leave me alone. With a frustrated and mildly sheepish look, he left the doorway and went on to his room down the hall. How ironic that someone blatantly caught taping our nether regions and who definitely stole something by deduction (and by putting the damn puzzle together) would attack me over walking into his room. If I did "go through" his stuff then what anyways? Oh, arrest me. I guess when you think about it it's the guilty who decide to start attacking people for stupid shit.
So through the tension we tried to cooperate with the cops who said their plan was to bag him in his room for questioning, confiscate his stuff, and then have him taken out of the apartment. That was the plan, but whenever Pool Boy would call them to tell them he was in the apartment, they would say they'd be there in a couple days; they were working on something. I think he actually heard them laugh once, as if they weren't even paying attention but someone was making jokes in the background. One day at around a two week point they came in and made a mess of his room, gathering up his computer and cords and the camera he had used to "catch" me "going through his stuff". He definitely got rid of the clock-radio camera and geez, he had plenty of fucking time, didn't he? Finally, FINALLY, he came in one day in a suit, paraded down the hall by his parents and a man who I presume was his lawyer. Actually when you think about it, that may have been punishment enough. I took a class senior year for the hell of it and it was known by classmates as "Gaysians". Frankly, it doesn't seem like Asian cultures are incredibly accepting of gays. Like normal gays. Not gay people with sneaky cameras. So I guess I'm just hoping the embarrassment of his Vietnamese parents knowing that he was secretly filming dick is on par with the absolute horrible-ness we had to go through because of his dark desires. Hehe, dark desires.
So anyways, it took them about 2 hours to clear out and we haven't seen him since. One of the most retarded things about this ridiculous situation was that even with the knowledge of what happened, people said some stupid shit. The most ludicrous thing I heard out of anyone was from some dipwad named Craig who was invited to some lovely beirut at the apartment. The dialouge went a little something like this:
"Hey Craig, we're having a party on Friday, wanna come play some beirut?"
"Oh, maybe. Is Vinh coming?"
"What? Why would he?"
"Oh, I don't know. I just didn't know if you were going to invite him."
"::Stunned silence::"
That might've been the worst part. That we could tell people exactly what happened and they'd say something stupid like that. Some of them acted like those people where a rape victim has come forth and they just don't believe her and scold her for saying such things. Or him. It happens. No one did exactly that, but a couple people just kind of acted like they didn't believe it and we were just saying crap cause we were all in some big fight. Over what? Oh, I dunno. Maybe a fight about Vinh filming our privates? Nah, that couldn't be it.
Fifteen years from now Craig will be entering his cubicle. His coworkers, bored with the same old same old of the everyday office life will have put an amateur gay porn site up on his computer. He presses the button and sits down. As his screen comes up his face turns white. His buddies, previously glancing over his cubicle walls, will fall apart with gales of laughter at the horrified expression on his face. Little will they know that his color has been drained not from a penis popping up in front of his face, but from knowledge; the knowledge that that is his penis. His 22 year old penis taking a piss in a dormitory bathroom years upon years ago. "Oh" he'll think, once words come back to him. "Oh."
It wasn't just Pool Boy. It was everyone who ever used that bathroom, and let me tell you, everyone who ever came over to party used that bathroom because it was the closest. Pool boy, Me, Boyfriend, A, Craig, that blond girl Craig is destined to marry and divorce, and everyone else you can possibly remember.And for all we know at this point, the kid got off scot-free. Given the lax attitude the cops had when we talked to them, if they ever got him down to the station, it went a little like this: "I'm going to cover my eyes and count to ten and I just hope no one kidnaps you..1...2."
So anyways, that's the story of Vinh and his secret dick-camera. Maybe sometime I'll follow that up with the time A ripped the apartment apart just a couple weeks after the camera incident. He got taken out of the apartment almost quicker and he hadn't sexually assaulted his roomates, if you will. That just shows you where the university's priorities are.
1 comments:
ugh, this story still creeps me out to this day. I do hope Vihn does get whats coming to him because what he did was so awful. ~Z
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