I was sitting on the train today quite literally thinking of things that I wanted to write about on here. I knew that I wanted to talk about shaving a guy’s head at the bar yesterday while drinking with coworkers, and I also knew that I wanted to talk about how the new guy and I had our “relationship” talk. It was while I was thinking of these things that a man sat down in the seat diagonally in front of me.

From the start I knew he was sketchy. He was wearing these tight gray thermal shorts that clung to his body, an aspect that will be important. He was also wearing a tight black cotton t-shirt. It must have been a few minutes before I realized that his thing was, ahem, enlarged under his shorts. The tightness of the shorts made it so that it was like a cucumber wrapped in saran wrap. I giggled.

It was when he looked over at me and started touching himself that I started to freak. Stroking himself while leering over at me. It got worse- he pulled out one of those clerical finger covers and a package of finger cots:

Yeah, I didn’t know what they were either. Apparently they are used in medical, clerical or food industries to cover cuts on fingers for sanitary means. They resemble eeny-weeny condoms.

He takes these things and starts holding them against his penis as though comparing it. I mean, I guess that would make any guy feel good to think that his penis was gargantuan. For the next three stops or so he keeps rubbing himself while leering at myself and three other girls on the train. One of those three stands to get off at the stop before mine and he starts going nuts. Sweating, the whole bit. I am looking around desperately at this point to try to catch eye contact to see if I’m the only one who notices. And I am.

At my stop I get off and start running towards the conductor’s end of the train. A few construction workers on the track ask me what’s wrong, I explain quickly, and they stop the train. Within a few minutes the police are there, I tell them the exact description and his seat in the specific car, and they take off down the track. The two other girls from my car get off and ask me what happened- when I explain that he was, um, masturbating while staring at us, they freak out. “Oh, he just got off the train and took off running as soon as the conductor mentioned that there was an emergency situation.”

Apparently the conductor didn’t follow protocol and left the doors wide open on the cars while announcing over the loudspeaker that there was a situation. Idiot. By the time the police got there he must have at least gotten around the block.

I ended up spending about an hour and a half filling out police reports (Really? You’ve never had to fill out a report detailing a stranger’s penis in detail?)

And to think that I wanted to write about shaving heads and relationships!

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Update:

I got a call this morning from the police officer who questioned yesterday. Apparently they have a match on my description to a guy who has reportedly raped three girls and attacked four others. I really had been thinking that maybe I exaggerated what had happened but now I’m really glad I did everything the way that I did. This morning a police officer met me at the train and escorted me to work, and then met me again when I was taking the train back home. It was extremely uneventful, if you ignore the fact that we hit a bird going 60 miles an hour and the front window was smeared with the body.