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October 3, 2013 / MissSteele

Put That Thing Away, Sir

For all two of you who read this blog religiously, you are aware that I have discussed (more than once) the epidemic of men showing their penises to everyone they meet online because it is apparently fashionable to do so. Penis selfies are so “in” this season. Or, at least, they think so.

Well, it’s one thing to show your junk online to a stranger (I guess?), but when you start showing it to random people on the street, well, that takes it to a whole new level of nast-tastic. I say this because I was out to dinner last night with some friends, and naturally, our visit turned awry when penises suddenly entered the conversation.

One friend, who had worked in a restaurant years ago, said a “regular” was drinking his usual coffee and watching her clean tables. Apparently, his coffee mug wasn’t the only thing he was grasping in his hand because when she dropped a towel on the floor and bent down to retrieve it, she noticed he was flogging his pecker underneath the table.

She was obviously horrified, so she told management and asked them to remove him from the restaurant because it’s sort of distracting when someone is masturbating at the table next to you. I’m just guessing here, but unless you are a hooker, I think it would be difficult to do your job when someone is stroking it two feet away from you.

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Carry on, doll. I’m just rubbing one out over here.

Well, management immediately asked the guy to leave and told him to never come back. Oh wait- NO THEY DIDN’T. What they actually did was tell my friend there was nothing they could do unless they saw the guy doing it themselves. Apparently, her word wasn’t enough to get him kicked out, so they told her to go back to business as usual to see if she could “get him to do it again.”

Yes, I’m aware of the countless things wrong with that sentence.

Anyway, she reluctantly went back to work as management observed from afar, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Great White Wanker. They didn’t have to wait long, because shortly after she returned to polish the ketchup bottles, he started beating on it like it owed him money. So, they finally asked him to leave.

I’m still convinced her manager was a sadist who wanted to humiliate her for his own pleasure. He could have easily taken her word for it and asked the dude to leave the first time. But, no. His way was far more fun. Unfortunately for my friend, that wasn’t the only time she had this type of encounter.

Once, when she was leaving work late at night, the car behind her started looking rather suspicious. A few common turns onto some streets is a coincidence. All of them is not, especially when she had a 30-minute commute back home and he had followed her for most of the way.

When the creepy car showed no signs of stopping, she called the police because she couldn’t go home without him following her there. Obviously, you don’t want a guy like that to know where you sleep because you may wake up in a hole in the ground while he demands “it puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.”

If he had been driving this van, she probably would have offered to buy it from him.

If he had been driving this van, she probably would have offered to buy it from him.

Once she was on the phone with the police, she noticed the car was speeding up so he could drive side-by-side with her. Horrified, she looked over only to see him furiously masturbating in his car while staring at her. It was like he couldn’t wait to show her what he was doing.

In case you were wondering, it was not the same guy from the restaurant. It was a new guy that time. I guess word spread around town that she enjoyed watching strange men touch themselves in unsuspecting situations.

Of course, I was astonished that my friend had endured this, but I was wrong to assume she was the only one because my other friend chimed in and said, “Yeah, that happened to me once.”

“What?!” I asked.

“Yeah, this guy in a truck pulled up and asked me for directions, and he was masturbating the entire time I was talking to him, but I had no idea that’s what he was doing.”

“OH MY GOD!” I yelled.

“Yeah, I was so dumb I didn’t even notice. When someone else called the police about it, he even told the cops, ‘That girl was so dumb, she didn’t even realize what I was doing.'”

“That’s crazy!” I said as I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, well, I was in the 8th grade at the time, so maybe that had something to do with it.”

And, that’s when our laughter was cut short and the table gave a collective gasp. That last little tidbit changed the dynamic of her story and made it inappropriate to laugh, so we all just stared at the table in awkwardness for a few moments until someone suddenly changed the subject to psychotic bosses and chocolate bars.

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