I've Never Been the Target of and Ice Cream Related Sexual Incident Before...

The title pretty much says it all. Words can't really describe what I went through, though I'll try in my best adult trashy romance way.
It all started when Tasha and Wayne and I decided that we HAD to get ice cream. So we drove all the way down to the Lake Mary Brusters. For those of you who know the area, Lake Mary is a pretty nice place. Its the kind of place where you laugh because 16 year old girls are driving lexus' and begging for change on the side of the road so that their softball team can go to state (because really, THIS is a good cause) and you just know that it doesn't matter how many perverted old men give them a twenty dollar bill while oggling their teenage nubbin boobies because mom and dad will pay for it anyway. What was I saying? Oh yeah, its a well off area.
So, we're in line and Wayne is laughing his ass off in the backseat about about Bruster's salted Dixie Nuts and Wet Walnuts and other strange concoctions that no one probably ever buys. When Tasha asks what's in the "Black Forest" that doesn't help. So I'm guessing the lurking pervert heard this and figured we'd be into his little show.
When we get up to the window and pay there is a middle aged man with streaky hi-lites in his hair (the kind that meant to be blonde tips but during the do-it-yourself process something went horribly awry) sitting on the park bench STARING at us. I was probably the first to notice and was immediately very uncomfortable. As I pointed it out to the rest of the car Wayne told me not to worry because the guy was obviously gay.... and then he started eating out his ice cream cone. Oh yes, he was licking it in a very suggestive manor and just as I was ready to gag on my own tongue, his group came and joined him at the bench, laughing at our misfortune of being stuck in a drive through getting visual oral gratification from the scary perv. Scarier still was his "group" consisted of two 12-13 year old boys! I tried to focus my attention on the ceiling of the car and hoped that my powers of telepathy would will the little ice cream scooper girl to scoop faster, but I had no luck. When Tasha gasped I looked back over in his general direction, and boy, was that a mistake. I'm going to try to slowly explain what he was doing to give you the best possible visual, as I know that's why you're reading this anyway:
He was standing on the bench bent over with his hand on his ass and his index finger pointing straight down. His other hand was reached around and holding the ice cream which he proceeded to have finger sex with... just under his ass. It was like watching a car accident. I think this is quite possible the nastiest thing I have ever seen. Oh, until he pulled his finger out and licked it "like a lollipop."
This weekend has been no better in restoring my faith in humanity, either. I got up this morning and noticed that there was a Uhaul parked in front of my first floor apartment. Lucky me, I have a sliding glass door that looks RIGHT into the parking lot. Where everyone has to walk to get their cars The dogs just love it. Anyway, I didn't think anything of it. When I got back from picking my car up at the shop and taking the dogs to the dogpark, there is a whole new set of hideous, cheap, dirty lawn furniture on my porch. Despite the fact that Mike was on the phone I was like: "What the hell kind of nasty shit is this!" and I knew immediately that it wouldn't be Tasha's because she has taste. I took just a minute to double check with her and confirm that she hadn't been rummaging through the trash for new ways to make us look like total rednecks and I marched the damn things back upstairs and left them right in the stairwell with a note that read: ""Dear Assholes,Thanks for the gesture, but I won't be needing any of your trash on my porch, so here it is."As we speak, the chairs are still in the stairwell and the note has been removed. I wanted to go put a new one on there that said: ""Dear Arbors,We won't be needing our cheap, crappy, Dollar General furniture anymore, so we'll just be leaving it here. Sincerely, the douchebags on the second floor moving out on 1/19/06"But Mike didn't think that was a good idea. Seriously, is it just me or is that really nervy? How do all these mental patients find me? Did someone plant a homing device on me when I wasn't looking? Do I smell like cheese or something? What the hell. I'm going to go take a shower and wipe the retardedness off of me. Thanks for reading.