So there I was, sitting in a Friday’s after a long night of a Tech rehearsal at my school (Charlotte’s Web, if you must know), enjoying myself and my $2.79 basket of fries (enslaved fries, no less), when I notice a guy standing up against the railing behind my buddy, who was sitting across from me. He was standing really funny, leaning out pretty far with his pelvis pressed up against the rail. I thought he was just drunk and looking for someone.
Twenty minutes later, I noticed that he was still there, with his pelvis still pressed up against the railing. I noticed that he was slowing shifting up and down in a rather… ah… awkward fashion. It took me a while to realize what he was doing. He was rubbing his penis, through his pants, up against the pole.
“Nah,” I thought, “that’s ridiculous.”
Of course, I didn’t want to stare. I only glanced up every now and then to watch the spectacle. I noticed that he had an erection - not terribly pronounced, mind you, but every now and then the cloth of his crotch would be pulled taut and the outline of Happy Captain Winkie would be made apparent. At one point, I saw him reach into his pants, apparently trying to be inconspicuous about it and failing miserably. I feared that he would whip it out right then and there… but I guess he was just shifting what leg it was going down or something.
Anyway, he kept this up for a while. He kept rubbing, me and my friends were trying REALLY hard not to bust out laughing (hey, we’re theatre people, we don’t frighten easily). Finally, at one point, his rubbing just kinda stopped. He stood perfectly still for a second… and then he poured some water from his cup (his drink had long since been partaken of, but the melted ice remained), poured it on the railing and smeared it around, as if washing something off, and then walked away.
The clincher, however, was seeing a guy grab ahold of the bar, a minute later, to lean on it… only to pull his hand away a second later, stare at the fluid on his fingers in confusion, and then wipe his hand on his pants. People kept touching or leaning against this railing for the rest of the night.
The moral of the story? Don’t touch railings. You never know when a drunk old man might’ve jizzed all over it.