Subway Story

I was in the subway the other day. It was not so packed that people could not avoid resting on each-others butts, but it was packed enough that a casual butt brush would be entirely justifiable if not forgivable.

I was sitting down, and there was a man standing, a cane in his hand and his pinkie extended to as long as it could reach. it was one of those bejeweled pinkies with a very long nail, bluntly cut and strangely considered a sign of a Hombre Verdadero, by the machologists of the world. They probably have a convention or something every year, and maybe publish a Macho’s World weekly where they state that grown yellow nail on little pinkie, thick gold chain caught in curly graying neck hair, receding brilled hair and a tendency to leer are the signs of a true man.

Anyway, it was not the macho prototype that caught my attention but his untiring distented pinkie finger. I glanced alongside it to the nail point and I saw that it was very nonchalantly resting on the popped out bubble butt of a cute young thing, holding to the rail next to him.

That pinkie stayed distended for the whole of the trip, making it absolutely clear that it was not there by mistake.

My question is this, what type of possible excitement could this man have gotten from such minuscule and insignificant contact? I can understand the impact of a full out sweaty palm that creeps up the edge of an unsuspecting thigh or rear cheek, and the reaction that triggers (kicking the bejesus out of the offender). I can not understand that distented, beringed pinkie. 

What was I supposed to do instead of giving dirty looks to the leech who was pretending not to notice? How could I warn the girl who was not feeling anything and was not moving away? 

I knew that it was not my business to get involved, nor would I ever make any friends in the process, but years of scary and humiliating bus and train rides took over. I could still feel a hundred thousand “Casual” touchings, brushings, etc, from old and young perverted men (and a woman, do not ask me why), and I had enough.

As soon as my stop came, I jumped to get out, hitting the man in full with my shoulder tote (one of those things that can be used as anvils in case of war). I saw him bend over, smiled in satisfaction and got out, right behind the girl with the popped out bubble butt.

24 thoughts on “Subway Story

  1. Excellent observation,

    It’s gotta be all mental. Of course he didn’t get any physical excitement out of the gesture. However he imposed his will on the “puhrty little thing”, and that’s somehow exciting.

    It’s the attitude of takers. Thieves of booty. What’s the excitement of grabbing an ass in a crowded nightclub, and then pretending it wasn’t you?

    For that matter, what’s the excitement in raping somebody? Is it about physical/sexual gratification, or just a mental high?

  2. Then I should have you shadow me on the subway at all time …

    True story that by now has assumed laughable status. This one night I fell asleep (as many do) and had put my feet on the seat in front (fetal position almost) . This cheeky bastard had sat next to me and after he had confirmed that I was sleeping (he may not have cared at all) placed his jacket on his lap to hide the maneuvering of his hands on my thigh. I, of course, half asleep felt a sudden warmth of his pressing hand and liked it. I thought it was just the warm current from underneath the seat or my own jacket pushing against me. At a certain point I must have liked it too much that i reached with my hand below my thigh to remove the “thing” but of course it didn’t dawn on me to check next to my thigh … I was looking for a sleeve not a fucking hand for god’s sake.

    After some good 15 minutes of me enjoying his hand cup my thigh I woke up. There he is. Grinning. He pulls his hand back and just stands there looking non-chalant . I got up not feeling violated as much pissed that he didn’t say thank you … here I am giving you the time of your life and you don’t even have the decency to say thank you.

  3. Time to move to NYC…. screw car-driving thru the jammed suburban highways….. just tell me, how often can one expect this on average….😉

    Blete, the albanian version of this goes “osht nji gjymës qejfi”…. yuck, I think I’m gonna throw up….

  4. Blete, give a chance to Italo Calvino, try to find, if you please, “Difficult Loves”, you will see that what you just noticed as an ridiculous and nauseating act can be a wonderful and terrifying story about the fantasy of seduction…

  5. parrulla, anytime. your story reminds me of that of a woman and a flasher with new york times, but that is a different subject.
    peach, dunno about average. i have never experienced this in NY to my knowledge, but i also fall asleep in the train all the time. for all i know, i might have been measured head to toe by a slimy, little sad perv called Bernardo “the Toof” or something similar.
    now Albania is different. the battles i have fought there with my trusted inox ruler could put me in par with Napoleon.

  6. this really got in my nerves too.a similar thing happened to me in the bus .I was sitting beside a very normal looking man .The problem is I didn’t feel anything first because he didn’t lay his hand over me , he just left his hand in the air very close to my legs.The tragicomic thing is that I had just spoken on the phone to my friend who told me s.t funny and was smiling.That bastard must have thought I liked it , so he decided to really lay his hand over my legs.I felt my leg hotter than usual.That made me feel confused so I had a look at my leg and I saw this cheeky bear pull off his hand immediately.I just hit him , in the head with my elbow and got off the bus.
    I don’t understand such persons.However, there is a very interesting film , about this phenomenon.It’s a greek independent movie I have watched in INDEPENDENT FILM FESTIVAL in Istanbul years ago.It’s name is “Touch me not” and is about a man , who had learnt by heart each place of the bus he used daily to go to work, so that he could explore very easily even with shut eyes every part of the bus (that is women and their bodies:).This goes on up to one day when one woman starts to tease him the same way he has done for years.Finally those two freaks fall in love.Strange isn’t it?

  7. he sa harrova.nuk e kam harruar ate projektin e metrove dhe do shkruaj dhe une nje dite sepse me ka pelqyer ideja jote.
    ciao

  8. Blete,

    Totally out of context, brought to my attention from a fellow blogger, wanted to clear out the misunderstanding that I am not “cluephone”.

    I have never so much as noticed that “nick”, until this fellow blogger pointed out that you think it’s me. Nor have I ever been to Japan…

    It’s always ITS (God help me for being more controversial than I actually am), and Lawman on Peshku.

    Other than that, I wouldn’t play games with you, cuz you are actually a kinda sorta cool chick.😉

    cheers,

  9. that is funny. here i go thinking i am cured of my absentmindness and it just ain’t happening.
    thank you for not letting me die confused.😀
    complimentarily speaking, right back at ya.😉

  10. Jokes aside, I am very-very well aware of these bus stories…. first hand witness in Albania. OK they mostly stink, accepted and agreed…., but let me tell you the following.

    The “Uzina e traktoreve” bus line used to be full every morning and the poor folks used to be squeezed and wrung out inside like sardines. There was a sexy woman (married) among the bus riders, at her 30-ies, and it was a young mannish boy at his 23-24….. no chance they would ever have something going… Now, one morning it so happened that the young boy was adjacent to the young woman and no wonder, came to touch her (not willingly…. you got to know them buses to believe me, there was no escape from touching any stinky peasant in there)… anyway his leg ended up between her thighs…. and they seemed to like it. They never saw each other directly in the face. The ride took about 20 minutes. They got out. That day was over.
    Next day they found themselves (this time not that much unwillingly, especially from the boy) again near each other, again the same story with the leg, with his breath on her neck etc….
    It continued like this for a long time. They never heard each-other speak. Just enjoyed the 20 minute ride.

    So, whatcha say about this? Want to clarify that that boy it was not me and that this story is not made up.

  11. b, give me a title, as I am being tempted. Your input will be recognized. Titles like “A leg between thighs” or “The orgasmic bus” are of course, not allowed….😉 😀

  12. In Calvino story, the adventure is consumed in a train cabin, no talking, not even breathing and there was SPACE, a key element, a sucking space filled by fantasy, punctuated lust and alert but sweet drunkenness…and yes the above memory passage can unquestionably do for another, though essentially different, intoxicating and crushing story…however…!

  13. you got to do something about this Blete, or else…
    I concur with ITS: me=cluephone, him=just another guy. me=tokyo for the time being, him=montreal eventually. and I presume we exist independently in your mind … at least the cluephone-tokyo half.
    in contrary, I play games, especially with cool chicks (but this is not the case).
    and hope you will have the courage to share similar shameful secrets, with us again🙂 before things get messy in your head about who is who, and so on … whatever it means …
    good that you resume back in life by finding things that you lost or forgot occasionally, just make sure that more personal things fall inside your apartment or in possession of the right people, when your blanking out starts.
    and dont worry about death in a confused state of mind. a lot of people do!

    if you are clearing your head with the bong, probably thats not the right way to do it, and you should listen to the northern neighbors!

  14. peach, i am not very good with titles as you can probably see. for a person who uses pages to say nothing, it is sacrilegious to say something with a sentence.

  15. Yeah babyyy…. Veren e shkuar kur isha ne autobusin e Tiranes se Re the bus was so full of people this cute teenage chick pressed her hole body against mines, the other alternative for her it was another fat lady on the other side… She said “me fal”, i sad ska gje me te qeshur ..then i was, became, speechless.. besides i didn’t wanna hit on her she was too young so there I am standing si trung per gjith stacionin. She was laughing lookin at her friend so i guess she liked my perfume, i liked herz no doubt!… Props to Eni for that elbow hit..! Now if I was to intentionally cop a feel I would do it with somebody who actually wouldn’t mind first of all, then second, i would say smth… is just weird standing there… nice bubble butt!.. okkkkkk

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