Eat pizza with a fork
As a cyclist, making a left turn from the left-turn lane. Legal (if I signal first and don’t impede traffic while getting into the turning lane) and even recommended by my DMV, but I’ve been yelled at for being “insane” on multiple occasions, always by drivers who were completely unaffected by my presence.
Fill Windex bottle with Gatorade and drink in public.
I usually try to bury my head in a book or my phone when I’m on the L, but ya know how every once and a while, some weirdo catches your eye?
Well, this guy was one standing up and holding on to the hold thingies, and he was one of those guys with pants that sagged real low, so low in fact, that his entire undies were showing. I was able to very clearly see his junk wad through the thin orange fabric, and then there was some thigh, then his pants.
And his pants had a belt! A belt!
But that’s not the weird part. Half the guys on the L have cocks, so I mean, I’ve seen what I’ve seen. No, the weird part was that he caught me looking, raised his chin with a single acknowledgement nod, then reached into his pants and pulled out a Dorito.
This dude had entire back of Doritos cradled in his pants, and his underwear wasn’t orange, his was white with Dorito dust rubbed into it. No wonder his junk wad was all jumbled. This guy had been rummaging into his pants sack and snack attacking Doritos for who knows how long and rubbing away the evidence on his dong and danglers.
Of course, though, and this happens way more often than I care to admit to, but he winked a me. Why is these guys always gotta wink, am I right? He plucked out another Doritos, one that was half curled over, and look, I don’t want to be that descriptive with how he ate that Dorito, but it looked like when Grandma reaches over the dinner plate for more gravy and then sitting back down, drags the whole load into her lap with her saggy body. I know we’ve all been there.
Crunchy boldly, he leaned his knees forward like, “Here, young man, have a Dorito.” It was at this angle that I could see that the Doritos did not actually reside in a bag, but indeed did just fill up his pants entirely. I’m sure the became a salty, sweaty paste by the time they reached the socks.
I decline. He shrugged. He grabbed another chip. How did no one else see this? Lucky.
The L stopped, and the guy pulled his pants all the way up with a very uncomfortable amount of crunching at the crotch. He even grabbed his crotch and crunched a few times for seemingly no other reason than to crunch Doritos on his crotch.
Then he was gone. He was gone.
Staring at somebody with direct eye contact and not saying anything