Why Yes, I Am the Human Aphrodesiac...
Oh dear reader, picture this if you will...
I was late leaving work today (work tends to run long since I'm covering two jobs at the moment), so I didn't get out of the building until 5:15pm. Subsequently I didn't get to the subway until nearly 5:30pm. Just as I came down the stairs at the Union Square station a 4 train pulls up.
"Yes!" I think, much in the manner of Brain from Pinky and the Brain.
Now, anyone who has ridden the NYC subway at rush hour knows that the proper procedure for getting on a train is to let the riders off first before you attempt to get on. Then you also know that this rarely happens.
You also know that people will do the "bump and shuffle" to get onto the train. There was an older gentleman behind me that has this down to an artform. I'm trying to get on the train, only able to go as fast as the people in front of me, and every two seconds he is bumping into me; very rhythmically, never missing a beat.
We get on the train and he forcefully squeezes himself behind me just as the doors close, so he is right up against my back. I'm in a spot where there is nothing to hold on to, so I brace my palm against the ceiling so as to not be inertia's bitch.
Now the ride from Union Square to Grand Central Station is literally one stop (perhaps 2 minutes... probably less). Bear this in mind as you continue to read.
As soon as the train is in motion, I feel something warm, hard and encased in pants pushing up against my ass. Now, I understand.. sometimes these things happen. Sometimes you get onto a crowded subway train and are pushed bodily up against someone else. I also understand that erections can happen at inconvenient times. What I don't understand then is why this man proceeded to (again, rhythmically) push his groin into my left butt-cheek.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I was getting dry-humped on the New York City subway at 5:30 this evening.
There was nowhere for me to go; I couldn't even turn my body. I had to be satisfied with turning my head, looking sideways at him and throwing him the dirtiest looks that I could muster (which if you knew my mother you would know these could be registered as lethal weapons).
This did not phase him; he just kept right on humping.
The next 60 seconds feel like the longest in my life, because not only am I fighting inertia, but I'm fighting this guys weight ramming into me every couple of seconds (short girl bracing herself against the ceiling here).
As we approach Grand Central, everyone shuffles around a little in preparation of leaving the train (or getting the hell out of the way as much as humanly possible in this sardine can). The people around me move just enough so I can turn slightly to my left, enabling me to shove a not-so-subtle elbow into this man's ribs.
Good thing I kept a defensive elbow up, because he still tried to make contact into order to rub up against me. Everytime he went in for a pelvic thrust, he got a sharp elbow shoving deeper into his beer gut.
As the doors opened, I moved so he could go first. Of course he didn't. So I got off the train, stepped to the side and waited. As soon as he was off the train I had my camera phone out, and he ran.
I pursued.
We had a few moments of ring-around-the-rosie around a staircase before he shot up the stairs and out of sight.
"Attention ladies and gentlemen: for your safety and for the safety of those around you, please be aware that there is a humper on this train. If you look behind me you will see the perpetraitor. Get a good look folks. Remember what he looks like. Thank you and enjoy your ride."
So someone has to explain what it is about me that causes complete strangers to feel they need to achieve sexual arousal (if not climax) in public in my presence?
There was an incident nearly a year ago when I was sitting in Central Park. I was sitting atop one of the large rocks, reading my book, minding my own business, when a gentleman climbs up beside me. He sits about 10 feet from me. I go back to my book.
In a matter of moments I hear inappropriate slapping noises. I turn my head just enough to get a glimpse of what is going on. He climbed the rock to sit next to me and whack off. He was finished shortly, put himself back in his pants, and climbed off the rock.
Apparently this is my superpower. Look up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No! It's the Human Aphrodesiac!
I was late leaving work today (work tends to run long since I'm covering two jobs at the moment), so I didn't get out of the building until 5:15pm. Subsequently I didn't get to the subway until nearly 5:30pm. Just as I came down the stairs at the Union Square station a 4 train pulls up.
"Yes!" I think, much in the manner of Brain from Pinky and the Brain.
Now, anyone who has ridden the NYC subway at rush hour knows that the proper procedure for getting on a train is to let the riders off first before you attempt to get on. Then you also know that this rarely happens.
You also know that people will do the "bump and shuffle" to get onto the train. There was an older gentleman behind me that has this down to an artform. I'm trying to get on the train, only able to go as fast as the people in front of me, and every two seconds he is bumping into me; very rhythmically, never missing a beat.
We get on the train and he forcefully squeezes himself behind me just as the doors close, so he is right up against my back. I'm in a spot where there is nothing to hold on to, so I brace my palm against the ceiling so as to not be inertia's bitch.
Now the ride from Union Square to Grand Central Station is literally one stop (perhaps 2 minutes... probably less). Bear this in mind as you continue to read.
As soon as the train is in motion, I feel something warm, hard and encased in pants pushing up against my ass. Now, I understand.. sometimes these things happen. Sometimes you get onto a crowded subway train and are pushed bodily up against someone else. I also understand that erections can happen at inconvenient times. What I don't understand then is why this man proceeded to (again, rhythmically) push his groin into my left butt-cheek.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I was getting dry-humped on the New York City subway at 5:30 this evening.
There was nowhere for me to go; I couldn't even turn my body. I had to be satisfied with turning my head, looking sideways at him and throwing him the dirtiest looks that I could muster (which if you knew my mother you would know these could be registered as lethal weapons).
This did not phase him; he just kept right on humping.
The next 60 seconds feel like the longest in my life, because not only am I fighting inertia, but I'm fighting this guys weight ramming into me every couple of seconds (short girl bracing herself against the ceiling here).
As we approach Grand Central, everyone shuffles around a little in preparation of leaving the train (or getting the hell out of the way as much as humanly possible in this sardine can). The people around me move just enough so I can turn slightly to my left, enabling me to shove a not-so-subtle elbow into this man's ribs.
Good thing I kept a defensive elbow up, because he still tried to make contact into order to rub up against me. Everytime he went in for a pelvic thrust, he got a sharp elbow shoving deeper into his beer gut.
As the doors opened, I moved so he could go first. Of course he didn't. So I got off the train, stepped to the side and waited. As soon as he was off the train I had my camera phone out, and he ran.
I pursued.
We had a few moments of ring-around-the-rosie around a staircase before he shot up the stairs and out of sight.
"Attention ladies and gentlemen: for your safety and for the safety of those around you, please be aware that there is a humper on this train. If you look behind me you will see the perpetraitor. Get a good look folks. Remember what he looks like. Thank you and enjoy your ride."
So someone has to explain what it is about me that causes complete strangers to feel they need to achieve sexual arousal (if not climax) in public in my presence?
There was an incident nearly a year ago when I was sitting in Central Park. I was sitting atop one of the large rocks, reading my book, minding my own business, when a gentleman climbs up beside me. He sits about 10 feet from me. I go back to my book.
In a matter of moments I hear inappropriate slapping noises. I turn my head just enough to get a glimpse of what is going on. He climbed the rock to sit next to me and whack off. He was finished shortly, put himself back in his pants, and climbed off the rock.
Apparently this is my superpower. Look up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No! It's the Human Aphrodesiac!
posted by Jennifer at 4:41 PM
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