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mg

transexportational!

by mg at 10:06 PM on May 02, 2001

I've been back at work for eight days now. Keep reading, this isn't about work, it is about sex.

In those eight days that I've been going to work now (again, this is not about work - think SEX), I've had three really strange sexual/transportation encounters. Not strange sexual/transportational in the Crash kind of way, but sexual/trasnsportational nonetheless. The following events occured on the subway, on the way "to" or "fro" work. In my previous five years of daily commuting on the New York subway, I've only had one previous sexual experience.

At ten subway rides a week, for five years that comes out to some really big number. So the fact that I had only one instance, but three instances in the period of 8 days so fucking weird. Anyway, here they are, MG's weird sex-portation experiences:

[ the first event : accused! ]

The first event occured during the train ride on my first day of work. This really set the tone for my entire working experience so far. The train ride in was packed. It was the middle of rushhour, which is actually like a period of two hours, but whatever, who am I, the ensurer of properly named things? No, I'm not.

So, anyway, it was really packed. Bodies pressed against bodies. But not in a good way, because most of the bodies are really ugly and lumpy and most often stinky. We were all packed in, and there was this short blonde chick in front of me. I was listening to my Samsung Uproar, the cell phone that is also a MP3 player. I had my hand in pocket, on the phone, to skip some of the sucky songs on it that were annoying me. The Uproar rocks, but it requires a computer with a USB port to download new songs to it. My old computer ran Windows 95, no USB support. I had been using my work computer to upload music to my phone. But, after I got laid off, I had to keep the same set of songs on it for almost two months. That gets really boring to listen to, and there were a couple songs I got really sick of.

At any rate, I had to skip songs frequently. So, my hand was in my pocket, and the train lurched, as trains are wont to do. When the train lurched, this blonde chick in front of sort of fell against me. The next thing I know is that she is yelling something, something I can't hear, because I'm listening to my Uproar. I know she is talking about me, because everyone around us starts looking at me, I take out one earphone and hear something like "blah blah blah the guy behind me." I ask, "What did I do?" And she responds, "You just best keep your hands out of your pants."

So, I probably should have prefaced this story by saying I've heard stories about guys on the subway who will cut open the inside pockets of their pants so they can play with themselves whilst rubbing up against girls (and sometimes guys). I think there was even an episode of Law & Order that dealt with that.

I'm guessing that is what this girl was thinking I was doing. It really made me feel awful. I mean, I've never been called a pervert before. Well, at least not someone who doesn't know me very well.

events two and three later.

comments (2)

mg is so not a pervert. She needs to find you and apologize, and cook you dinner. Perhaps she has never seen an MP3 phone. Thank goodness I have an external remote for my Mini-Disc player.

by bri at May 2, 2001 11:14 PM


How she can accuse you AFTER SHE FELL AGAINST YOU!?.

by No Pervert at March 16, 2004 2:05 PM