Yesterday evening I ascended the stairs toward my train platform. Quite humid with cloudy skies, but in general I was very happy to be getting some fresh air and a bit of sunshine.
As I reached the top, I looked down and noticed a man—red hair, bright red jacket, slightly burly, a bit disheveled, probably mid-30s—standing on the ground in between the platform and the tracks. Unusual for someone to be standing where you might actually get hit by a train if it were to arrive. After a few seconds, my eyes focused, and I realized what he was doing. He had his dong (yes I said “dong” –I find it far more hilarious and far less offensive that other phallic nomenclatures) out in plain sight and was peeing on the side of the platform. He stared at me, and I stared back at him. Excuse the quip, but it was like staring at a train wreck—no one else was around, and I couldn’t look away.
He made no facial expression nor movement to cover himself—or to finish up for that matter. As my train approached, the conductor began blowing the horn. I found this unusual, as they very rarely blow the horn on my route. I realized that she was actually blowing the horn at the man, trying to startle him and get him to zip his pants. She stopped the train at my platform and stared out her window at the man, continuing to blow the train’s horn. The man—mid-stream—shuffled around the other side of the platform, partially out-of-sight; well, except for his bright red jacket.
While disgusted and disturbed, I couldn’t help but also be impressed as his time spent urinating was reminiscent of Jimmy Dugan in A League of Their Own.
No comments:
Post a Comment