Don’t ask why, but a few days ago I was reminded of the “Fidget Avenue” incident.

This happened about 18 years ago. My niece was playing out on the street when a guy in a brown pervert van came driving up to her. Knowing full well what a pervert van was, and the standard protocol for dealing with one, my niece decided to cross the street and get away from him.

He says “Hey, kid! You live around here, right? I need directions.” She then says, while walking away, “Where to?”

To “Fidget Avenue” he says, while flinging open the door to reveal his naked perv-wang.

My niece went screaming into the house telling her mom and dad who, at first, didn’t believe her. They both went out looking for the guy, but couldn’t find him. Which is better for everyone since he’d probably be dead and my sister would be in jail.

Nobody’s spoken of this for a good 16, 17 years because it was a little traumatic and we have to be sensative, right? Well, my niece was giving directions to some place… and I say “Hey… isn’t that the way to Fidget Avenue?”…

Yeah. I got a beating.