Every Saturday morning I go out for what I refer to as my weekly run. It's about 5k, less than 40 minutes. I take various routes through the neighbourhood. This morning I left the house at about 11:15 and ran south through the wooded park there.
I was on the west side of the creek that runs through the park, and there was someone crashing through the undergrowth on the east side of the creek. There's a trail over there, but it's not paved like the one I was on, and the last time I was on it, a couple of trees were down, which disrupted my gait. I took little notice, except to think it was a little cold (7 degrees C) to be running in shorts, but whatever. And then he turned his course towards me. I ran along, and he ran along, and then he stopped when he got to the river, and he stood there. Full frontal.
With his pants in his right hand, and his genitalia in his left.
Having watched Criminal Minds last night, I decided not to laugh. I picked up the pace, maybe, and stayed on my side of the stream.
In 50 meters or so, I encountered some dog-walkers. We said hello. In another 20 minutes, I saw the same dog walkers again on the other side of the circuit, and they said hello, as cheerily as before. So I guess he didn't provide them the same display as he provided me.
Ed thinks I should have turned around and run home and called the cops. I bet he wasn't out there anymore by the time I got home. Isn't flashing more of a summer activity?
On the wretched zombie novel, things I need to learn about: ice roads and the res -- northern Ontario in general. I wonder if I can get a grant, like this woman I used to know, Erin, did? She got thousands of dollars to spend like ten days in Peterborough (!). I guess I should ask. It would be an interesting way to spend March break, researching a novel.