His junk is burned in my brain. I can’t unsee it.
Last week I was walking down the street at noon in a sleepy little suburban town to meet a friend for lunch and a guy flashed me right out in the open sunlight.
I expect these things at 2 a.m., on a city subway or down a dark alley in a major metropolitan area, but I see now that penis parts can rear their very ugly heads at any time, in any place.
I passed him nonchalantly walking down the street to my car, where I dropped off a package I’d bought from a store, and when I turned around, I encountered another package. Walking back up the street to meet my friend for lunch, there he was again. He’d followed me down the street to my car and when I tried to pass him, he lunged at me, and that’s when I noticed the whole enchilada.
Here in the suburbs we make eye contact and nod and smile when we pass people on the street. He seemed so normal the first time, but the second time he lunged at me hanging brain. Makes me reconsider that whole smiling at strangers thing, because maybe smiling is Man Code for SHOW ME YOUR DONGLE.
