I just moved to New York about three weeks ago. I’m livingin Jackson Heights, part of Queens, and I take the number 7 train almost every day to get to Manhattan. Until tonight, I’d never had any problems (well, other than body odor) with other passengers. But tonight…
My roommate and I were walking around the village, shopping a bit. We decided to go home around 8PM. So, it was still fairly light outside, and the car was pretty crowded. Somewhere along the line, the crowd of people thinned out, so it was only me and my roommate standing near one pole, holding on to keep our balance as the car moved. At one stop, a man came on, and from the opposite end of the car, started walking straight towards us, and grabbed onto the same pole we were holding.
He was a little too close for comfort, and his hand was clammy. I moved my hand, to give him more room, and so I wouldn’t have to be touching it. He moved his hand, so it was touching mine again. This happened about three times before I let go of the pole completely, and grabbed it again so my hand was at least a foot above his.
This whole time, I hadn’t been looking down. At the next stop, I did. The man had his penis out of his shorts, and he was holding it. I quickly looked away, turned to my roommate and whispered, “Let’s get off HERE.” (We were about six stops before ours.)
We laughed about it, but I’m actually pretty disturbed. As soon as we got home, we washed our hands.
Actually, I was only laughing about the hand-groping and the vestigial back-fur at first. I never saw the penis. After I’d been asphyxiating with hilarity for ten minutes, she said “And the other thing.”
I said naively, “What other thing? All I saw was the hand-groping. What was the other thing?”
And she just looked at me flatly and said, “He had his dick out.”
I blanched. I gawked. I gasped.
I combusted into redoubled laughter.
And don’t worry, surrogate mom, ma’am. There were enough other people in the car that we wouldn’t have had to face him alone if he tried anything. Besides, I had a bag full of cans of Pringles and knew how to use it.
The real scare tonight remains the two-inch cockroach. Which we ended up microwaving. But that’s another story.
laughs The first one was a four-inch. This could very well have been kin seeking vengeance. And it’s very well nuked, in a sandwich-sized tupperware container, in our garbage can. Eau de Grilled Roach—a scent for a man or a woman.
I think they’re ubiquitous. As for cruelty, I saw no redeeming qualities, and I’ll stand unashamed come Judgement Day. If it was a rat, that’d be different. If it’s furry, let it scurry; if it’s shelled, give it hell.
While I did e-mail the link to this thread to Will, I will never tell ANY of it to your grandfather, who thought you should be taking the next bus home the day after you left (before you were halfway there).
Ros said you bought two more pairs of shoes on the way. He says Jennifer has more shoes than you do.
Sorry to be hogging your thread; I may sit back for a while and give others a chance to respond.
LOL I’m sorry, don’t mean to laugh…but this sounds like my mother after I told her about someone touching my (|) on the train here in Atlanta one day. I stomped his foot and got off at the next stop. She told me to start driving downtown to work- yeah, right, like that’ll happen.