I Was Masturbated At

Selbstbefriedigung
Egon Schiele

Last night, while walking through the financial district of NYC after having drinks with some friends, I was masturbated at. Looking back, it was almost like fate had pushed me towards this chain of events because I almost didn’t leave the house that night in the first place. I have the tendency to hermit myself, and I had just gone out the evening prior to see a show at the Bowery Ballroom, so the idea of going out on back to back nights seemed like a new habit of raging. I actually had an inner brain movie about it and though something along the lines of, “is this my life now? Just going out all the time?” I decided to go for it and keep my plans to have a brainstorming sesh with my blog group over drinks, which went well, but then everything went into the shit can on the way home. I’m pretty sure that the subway runs flawlessly unless I’m on it, and this night proved no different when the R train stopped running at Canal. My suitcase of eccentricities contains my unwillingness to ever learn more than one way to and from any given place, so when presented with a road-block, I usually just conclude that the hardest and most illogical solution is the best one. I exited the subway station at Canal, and started walking the 30-minute walk that would get me to home base. And by home base, I mean the Staten Island Ferry. (I can feel your judgment right now, and I don’t appreciate it).

It was a nice night out and the walk went quickly. Before I knew it I was just past Wall Street, so I stopped to get some chicken and rice at the Halal stand to eat on the boat. I waited for damn near ever for my food, but what are you gonna do? With street meat in hand (foreshadowing), I continue down the final stretch and then I started hearing a strange noise. It was a noise that, up until this night, I had never heard before (check bio) and it sounded like a moist smack smacking. (I could literally barf just thinking about what I’m about to tell you. Plus I just used the word moist.) I turn to my right, and like a flashing billboard for everything bad and not cool in the world, I see a black man’s penis. Apparently some guy thought an awesome way to spend a Wednesday night was to hang out in the dark, pants down with wiener in hand, and wait for some girl to walk by so he can make a loud production out of touching his privates. Upon first glimpse of his pee-hole, and I swear that I actually did see it, because it was pointed right at me, I yelled “ewwww,” which only made him groan and slap slap louder. I ran the rest of the way to the ferry, texting my trauma to everyone I knew as I went, and felt very much violated. This whole scenario reminded me of scenes from a show like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or something, where you know that the hell mouth has opened up and shit’s about to get real because the townies are lighting fires in trash cans and walking around with no shirts on. Once you see someone masturbating at you in the street, global warming and bad vibes in Israel drop to bullet points #2 and #3.

This morning I woke up feeling a little bit less like I wanted to take my own life. I was glad to go to work and find my happy place again. I am showing signs of long-term psychological fuckitude though because while sitting in front of my job having a pre-time clock cigarette, I overheard a construction worker say something to his friend like, “when that happens, I just slide down,” and I was beyond certain that he was discussing how he goes about masturbating in-between cars. TC mark

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  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=555371269 Bill A Pomerans

    damn
    peehole?

  • black hawk

    “… I see a black man’s penis.”

  • Tsotsi

    Black Dix rock s'febe! Arrggh… You just spoiled a lekker blog with your ignorant obsession about race…

    • Kelly McClure

      It was merely descriptive. Not racial.

      • Laaa

        ignorant obsession = best journalist

      • Yea

        if you would have said “white man's penis” you're right it's not racial

  • Daniel Coffeen

    I have stumbled, as of late, on this odd niche: videos of men filming themselves masturbating in public “at” women. There is, of course, a rather conspicuous homoeroticism to these videos: men watching other men masturbate, the penis dominating the screen's foreground.

    But what's more conspicuous is the hilarious faith men put in the power of their penises — their penises devoid of a body, of a person. As if the mere revelation of their erect shlong will inspire…..what? Lust? Riches? A cock sans person is just plain old odd, isn't it?

    I am sorry this happened to you. But glad you got to write about it.

  • Bensaucier

    I think Paul Barker should write a piece from the masturbating dudes perspective.

  • audreyfennell

    “This whole scenario reminded me of scenes from a show like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or something, where you know that the hell mouth has opened up and shit’s about to get real because the townies are lighting fires in trash cans and walking around with no shirts on.”

    amazing.

  • http://twitter.com/WellReadWife The Well-Read Wife

    When I was a sophomore in college I got “masturbated at” in a bar on Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The drinking age in NO had just changed from 18 to 21. I didn't have my ID on me and only one bar would let my friends and I in. It was called La Petit in Exile. The bouncer laughed like he thought it was hilarious that my friends and I were going in. I was mildly offended by that bc I was a “woman of the world”. Anyway, I saw flashing lights in the back of the bar and assumed there was a dance floor. So I ran to the back coolly ignoring the porn that my friend later informed me was playing on the tv sets above the bar. I got to the back of the bar to realize there wasn't a dance floor. And just about the time I realized there wasn't a dance floor, some skinny, rough looking guy tapped me on the shoulder and pointed down. Yep, he was masturbating and his eyes were rolled up in the back of his head. I immediately grabbed my friend and pointed. I screamed and ran out while she stood there laughing and pointing. So I can relate to this…

    • Kelly McClure

      I wonder what it would feel like to have a body part that can totally double as the scariest/creepiest thing ever. I'm gonna dress up as a penis for Halloween.

      • The dunes

        do it

      • pjaime

        “I wonder what it would feel like to have a body part that can totally double as the scariest/creepiest thing ever. “

        It's pretty sweet. Plus, getting to piss wherever you want is nice.

      • Addison

        Oh you have one alright.

    • Hyacinthe

      Lafitte in Exile?

  • Matt

    This reminds me of how utterly impossible it is for me to imagine being a woman…

    • Nick

      Yeah, that's true! Although we're not reading the online diary of a woman, really…

      Perhaps “flabby hermaphrodite” is a more accurate term?

  • Juliana

    “inner brain movie” destroyed me. it is 4:26 AM and i am lol'ing hard.

  • a polar bear

    sweet, wish i had that action.

    • Polar bear bff

      yay, doormat!

  • Noradaxplora

    You haven't been in NYC very long, have you?

    • Polar bear leigh

      I think she lasted a couple of years, but most of that time was spent on a garbage dump, or drunk on the (free) ferry. Cause you know bitch couldn't afford a car… or a bike.. or, ahem, a cab. Success!

  • Nic

    Just point and laugh. If enough people do react that way, it will discourage the behaviour, regardless of the race of the guy fapping in front of you.

    I've never seen a woman do this. Wonder why?

  • Polar bear bff

    i just checked your online diary, and it's looking a little bare. write more! REVEALLLLLLLLL!

    • http://twitter.com/melvinismad Melvin Alvarez

      homenum revelio!

  • lararosa

    Love love love egon schiele

  • Miranda

    I was masturbated at when I was 15. To get the art school I was attending, I had to take an hour city bus ride with some of the strangest people I had ever met in my innocent youth.

    So that day I was walking to the bus stop–4:15 in the afternoon mind you and by a highway–and alone. There was a man sitting on one end of the bench beneath the bus stop shelter, so I sat on the other. He was probably is his mid-twenties and mildly attractive. I read my book like a good little girl while this guy kept trying to start up conversation. Weather, butterflies, Marxism, my school, ect. Then, out of my peripheral vision I saw his lean towards me, and I thought he was extending a hand for me to shake, because he was saying that his name was Jason. I look over and there in one hand was pale, pale erected penis and in the other was a water bottle that I guess was blocking the passing cars view of his…erm…little (pretty big) guy.

    Worst part is, when he saw me openly gaping, he asked, “Does this bother you?” AS HE STROKED IT AND MOANED.

    I said yeah. He said he should leave and he was sorry he offended me. I was embarrassed.

    The next day after I retold my story to my friend, she said to me he was there the week before. My back was to “Jason” as we played cards, and that he was openly masturbating then too. Needless to say, we are not friends anymore.

    Friends tell friends when a guy is wanking to the sound of your voice.

  • Hombre_de_justicia

    Sorry, Kelly, but it wasn't “merely descriptive.” You made a point of telling us that this was not simply a “man” (which would have implied a white man), but a “black man.” I don't believe for a second that it was purely random description. Either consciously or (more likely) unconsciously, you did it for a reason, and you should ask yourself what that reason is. Seriously.

    Furthermore, your reaction is hyperbolic, to say the least. So some guy masturbated in your direction. And you claim to have felt like taking your own life as a result. Get a grip and stop letting others have that much power over you.

  • MiNKSLiNG

    Pity the ignorant 'PC' fool who gets all bent out of shape over mention of someones creed, colour, body-shape or a able-bodiedness. I like stories to be well described, it adds to the reader's visualisation what the author is putting across. Black, asian, indian, maori, disabled, midget, ginger, bald, fat, anorexic, mentally retarded… Pick up pretty much any published written work and there's going to be a description included that's sure to upset at least one of the feeble-minded out there… and thank God / Buddha / Shiva / Allah / the author, for that … it keeps things interesting.
    And Hombre-D-J, I have this funny feeling that Kelly was in no real danger of taking her own life… it was what is called a “figure of speech”; and there is also a tendency to slightly 'exaggerate' events when it comes to storytelling.Some people really need to lighten up.
    BTW … was anyone else picturing Forest Whitaker, whacker in hand, 'Shlup shlup shlup'. LAWL :p
    Thanks Kelly for the entertainment :)

  • MiNKSLiNG

    PS… hope no one was offended by my written stutter… “
    body-shape or a able-bodiedness
    ” … it's so hard NOT to offend in this day and age! :P

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