What I Saw In My Neighbor's Window
I probably wouldn't be telling you this story today if we had smartphones in 1994
There was a lot of crazy shit going down in 1994. OJ Simpson murdered his ex-wife Nicole and Ronald Goldman, Kurt Cobain joined the 27 Club, and Tanya Harding got some bad dudes to whack competitor Nancy Kerrigan in the knee. Now I’m not saying the following story deserves to sit on the same shelf with murder and figure skater sabotage, but it’s nonetheless interesting in a ‘you don’t see that every day’ kind of way.
In ’94, I was a 19 year-old working at a video store, trying to decide what to do with my life after surviving brain surgery the previous year. I wasn't allowed to drive for 2 full years after my surgery, doctor's orders, in case there were any hiccups that could cause an accident. My mom or boyfriend graciously drove me to and from work, with the occasional coworker driving me home after our shift ended.
One afternoon, I was waiting outside near the garages of my apartment complex for my boyfriend to pick me up, since that would be faster than having him park and walk inside to get me. If I had to guess, I'd say my apartment was at least 50-75 feet from where I was waiting. While standing there bored I simply surveyed the area. Squirrels climbing trees, kids getting off a school bus down the street, people getting home from work and pulling into their garage. Then I turned around to look back at my apartment, across an empty playground sitting in the center of the complex, and noticed new tenants must've moved in above us on the second floor. The place had been vacant for a while but now there were drapes hanging.
Suddenly, someone pushed those drapes wide open. I watched from a distance that was too far to see clearly but close enough that I could tell it was a youngish, slim, tall, white guy who appeared to be shirtless. He seemed to be bending over to pick things up. Informed by the fact that he's moving in, my imagination filled in the blanks by assuming he must be unpacking. Then the new neighbor was standing sideways while doing something with his hands…he appeared to be enthusiastically dusting or polishing a candlestick.
It was not a candlestick.
My new neighbor was polishing his dick. In broad daylight.
I told my boyfriend as soon as I hopped into his car. He was convinced the neighbor was masturbating while watching me but I didn't think so. I sensed it wasn't about me. For one, I was too far away to see very well. Second, that wouldn't require the drapes being wide open. A voyeur would be peeking through their curtains trying to be incognito, not doing the full Monty for everyone to see.
About a week later, I was dropped off near the garages after working a busy night shift. In the quiet dark with only a few lights to guide me, I walked toward my apartment, passing the empty playground, and noticed the new guy’s drapes wide open again. As I got closer I could see him standing there, very clearly and without a doubt, masturbating. I tried not to be obvious that I saw him, darting my eyes back down to the sidewalk as I approached the door to the building.
I saw the exhibitionist a total of 5 times, the last 4 all occurring after I'd gotten home from hanging out with friends or working. This added to the reasons why I was skeptical it was about me; I had such an erratic, unpredictable schedule. There would have been no way for him to know when I'd be coming home. I suspect he was aroused by the possibility of anyone watching him, and I just happened to be the one catching him in the act during those particular times. I'm sure other neighbors had seen him, too.
After the 5th incident, I was disturbed enough by the possibility small children were witnessing his public displays of self-pleasure (the playground was right there, for chrissakes) that I finally marched over to the complex’s office and said "I'd like to report a neighbor for masturbating in his window." You should have seen the looks on their faces.
After I filed that report, those curtains were permanently closed. I never saw them open again. Ever.
When I told friends that story over the years, sometimes one would ask if I was afraid he would attack me. I wasn’t scared of him, for reasons that seemed inexplicable at the time. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume if someone in town went missing, the suspect would be Mr. Monty in the living room with the candlestick, but real life isn’t a game of Clue. I didn't report him because I thought he was a serial rapist or killer, I reported him because he was forcing his kink onto others and possibly exposing himself to kids.
It was over a decade later while studying forensic psychology and criminology that I learned my instincts were right about my neighbor. Sexual exhibitionists have a very low risk of being violent. It's the voyeurs you need to worry about. As a paraphilia, sexual voyeurs are very likely to escalate from simply peeping to acting out their fantasies. For them, eventually it’s not enough anymore to sneakily watch someone from afar. They begin to plan ways to secretly record their victims, or break into their home to steal their private things, or sexually assault them. Exhibitionists aren't usually aroused by a specific person, it's the act of being watched, whereas voyeurs often become obsessed with someone who becomes the star of their fantasies, hence their desire to finally control their victim.
It’s interesting to note how different this story would be if smartphones had been around in 1994.
So many people have their faces down while looking at their phones in public. They’re oblivious to their surroundings while walking and waiting. With a smartphone to entertain me, there’s a good chance I never would’ve witnessed the exhibitionist’s display in the first place. All the people guilty of walking and scrolling wouldn’t have seen his acts of self-love up close as they approached the apartment building. And if he turned out to be one of the exceptions, a cell phone might’ve distracted someone from hearing or seeing him before he attacked. Of course, a cell phone would’ve been handy for calling 911 or snapping pics of the exhibitionist for proof, too.
And can you imagine what everyone would be saying on the Next Door app? “Anybody else see the new guy’s window activities in 22D? Hide your kids, hide your wife, hide your dog…”
Looking back, it's both frightening and wonderful that we didn't have smartphones back then.