A dear friend once told me to be careful to not get too jaded because of my line of my work. But, what’s wrong with being jaded?
Was on the G train half asleep around noon today, a Sunday (which is when all of the fools come out) and I look over and see a man who I think is going to ask me for me. There are plenty of seats but he is standing up, so I figure there must be some sort of testimony soon to be recited. But no, I look over and see him wanking it. Dick out and everything.
The sad thing is, I wasn’t appalled. I understand this poor gross man. Bunch of hot girls on the train, I get it. Sure, he has issues, but I know how much of a kick he must be getting out of it (especially when the train stops and he has to put his oversized shirt over his little bits to cover his tracks..). When I got of the train, I was tempted to say something to him, to tell him that he should probably wait until he gets home because some people may be offended, but then I figured that those who were truly offended would say something.
Then I felt bad that I didn’t say anything because I thought of all of the children who could possibly hop on that train.
And then I got sad, and I want to go back and kill him.
I remember the first homeless dick I saw. I was 13 walking up and down a main road in a Jewish neighborhood\ghetto called Pikesville, where I used to live. It was very late at night, but my parents were never really ones to care where I was. Those posters: It’s 11 PM, do you know where your child is? I suppose those never fazed them. Anyway, I was walking down the street with a beer (I know, I know, 13 years old…) and I look over to my left and see an old man pissing right in front of my favorite store.
His dick looked like one of those tricolored rocket popsicles that you can get from Mr. Softee trucks.
I was horrified.
Jaded, and look where it’s got me now…
