GUESTBREAKER: You Grabbed My Penis On The L Train
There are so many attractive people that ride the L train from Brooklyn into Manhattan every morning. Well, the guys are attractive. The girls all look like a lesbian’s boot.
So when you looked at me and smiled, it was flattering.
But then the train got full and we got crammed next to each other, and you decided to use the train’s jerkiness to touch my penis.
A few things:
Firstly, the jostling of a train doesn’t make one’s hand hold on to the nearest surface and then RUB said surface. Secondly, what you don’t know is that the penis you just grabbed is attached to someone who just drank a Frappaccino too fast thirty minutes ago and has to poop. So I don’t have the mental energy to feel aroused because I’m trying not to shit my pants with each bump. Thirdly, what did you think would come of this? Would we tell this story to our children twenty years from now? Would I get off with you at the next stop and have sex with you in a pile of trash along Bedford Avenue? Because that’s where you live, isn’t it? Now that you’re closer to my face, I see that you’re one of those attractive-from-far-away hipsters who looks like he needs to be Windexed up close.
I can only assume that you think I’m a monster. Who else but a monster would feel a strangers hand on his penis and think “Yes, let’s let this happen for as long as he would like”? And I am not a monster or some half-crazed lunatic who fantasizes about being molested on the subway. I am a half-crazed lunatic who fantasizes about getting PROPOSED to by a stranger on the subway. And there is a difference. Sure, I may have been slightly complimented the split-second I felt you touching me, but that’s only because I am a mess and I didn’t shower this morning or brush my teeth, and usually my first instinct whenever someone flirts with me is that I am being pranked.
But I guess I want to thank you, Guy Who Grabbed My Penis On The L Train, for this near-instant Dealbreaker. If you has just smiled and asked me out, you probably would have shown up to our first date wearing a Liger t-shirt from Napolean Dynamite and talked about how you’re just one of those people that likes to sketch when they’re sad. And I do not have time for that shit.
A Guest Dealbreaker written by Chris Kelly