Subway E-dick-ette for Men... (A Lil' Rant)

Men of NYC – your junk is NOT that big! 

I know you think it is.  I know you look down at yourself in the shower every morning and think, “Woah! My anaconda is enormous!  And look at those two boulders it’s hanging between.  Damn!  I better make sure to always make plenty of room for its serpentine majesty.”

So naturally, when you sit down on the subway – or even on a bench in the subway station – you feel justified in spreading your legs as far apart as your groin muscles will allow – just to make sure the massive elephant trunk dangling above your nads has room to swing freely.

Unless you ACTUALLY look like this...

Meanwhile – you’re taking up twice as much room as any given woman on the subway – including the ones who weigh more than you!  I’ve seen very large ladies squeeze their knees together, straighten their posture and somehow slenderize by a couple inches on each side in order to accommodate a fellow passenger who would like a seat. 

But you men and your giant ball-sacks – you don’t even look up from that epic game of Bubble Witch you’re playing on your iPhone that you’re holding down in the cradle of the obtuse angle formed from where your legs meet your scrotum.

Here’s a reality check.  When a well-dressed woman walks on the train, looks around, zeros in on you and murmurs under her breath, “What a huge dick,” she’s not referring reverently to your member.  She’s cursing the fact that she has to stand there with her laptop from the office and try to balance in high heels on a moving train all the way to Jamaica because you’re taking up two full seats, leaving her without a place to sit.

...don't sit like THIS!

If your boy bits really need that much room, you should be standing – because the stability afforded from your tripod gives you distinct advantage…

Thank you for your understanding in this matter! 

Hillary J.

Writer's C*ckBlock

Did you get everything on YOUR list? Photo retrieved from www.prevention.com

-->

I’m finicky.

There – I said it.  Not about ‘Chandler-esque’ nitpicky shit.  Little superficial things can disappear in the context of a great connection.  But I have a very refined list of what I’m looking for in a ‘gentleman caller,’ and I’m not willing to compromise.  Here’s the number one reason:

• If I do compromise and delve into a relationship with someone who is ‘substandard,’ two months, weeks, days or minutes down the road I WILL meet Mr. Right who is the exact quintessential blend of every quality I’m looking for and then I’ll have to either be ‘dignified’ and remain loyal to my consolation prize, or break his heart and risk the karmic rampage my actions set into motion. 

That isn’t to say that I can’t fine ANYONE who meets my criteria.  It’s not too terribly unrealistic after all.

The problem is, the guys I meet who can check off every box on my shopping list are sadly already in someone else’s grocery cart!  By and large, many Ineligible Men (those with significant others) let themselves go after a while, and just don’t appeal to me.  I need someone fit and active who can keep up with my lifestyle as well as his own.   Men surrounded by the yummy goodness of monogamy tend to put on a little weight, dress in whatever decade they initially found true love, and zone out of conversations that do not focus on their favorite teams or reality television shows. 

Lest anyone think I’m being unfair – please note that the same frequently holds true for ‘settled’ women.  Sadly, their conversations always seem to link back to their children or some horrific medical procedure.  Even less appealing!

But on occasion, I meet a guy who still knows what shampoo is, gets all my goofy pop culture references, makes some of his own, and isn’t old enough to be my father or young enough to be my illegitimate son.  I check.  No ring or tan lines on his finger.  I flirt – just a little.  And then those damn words – “my girlfriend likes that too.”  Or, “I’d better text my fiancé to let her know I’ll be late.”

And sometimes, I can’t help but wonder – did he get what he really wanted, or did he roll up a few minutes before closing time, toss something in his basket and take it to the “Ten-items-or-less” express lane just so he could check out and go home?  See, I’m willing to bet that if he had made a shopping list first, then I’d be able to check off all of his boxes too…