Frotteur!

So I have been commuting on the subway for a few weeks now.  Of course, in any large group you get your... freaks.

I hate crowded subways; I usually wait like, 3 trains even to try and get on one that isn't as bad.  Last week I waited for my 3 trains, get on the 4th, and some guy jams in behind me.  All seems fine.  He was in the middle of the door area and for some reason, moved away from there to get further inside, which was weird.  So I ended up in this weird like, half turned position with my bag shoved into a poor guy in front of me.  Hate, hate, HATE crowded subways!

So I'm already figuring I'll go the one stop on the express, then get off and wait.  Meantime, I am listening to music and just trying to get through this hot, jammed experience.  The guy behind me suddenly like, smashes into me and against the back of me.  Meantime he's talking to himself and looking wicked creepy.  So I was like, "oh man, that crazy old guy really has no balance."  So it happens again.  And then I realized, it is suddenly lingering.  So I do the casual shift trying to jam more of myself into the door area and inch of space around me.  But the guy follows me.  And as I'm annoyed about it, I realize--that's his hard junk pushing against me.  I was experiencing one of the most creepy subway events.  Yes, way worse than someone falling asleep and putting their head on your shoulder.  But no, not worse than the guy who takes his junk out and plays with it while leering at you.  Probably somewhere in the middle.  I'd equate it to a flasher.

So I am now stuck on the train with a guy rubbing his "member" against me, while talking to himself and seeming overall crazy.  And that's the thing--they have you between a rock and a hard place.  Or in my case, a "you're a little old so it is more of a somewhat firm" place.  So I turn so that my hip is more facing him instead of my fleshy behind.  And that doesn't matter.  He takes a second break, then starts the rubbing again.  As I went to turn again, a little voice went "Hey stupid, turning so your FRONT is facing him is probably not better" so I just jammed my bag between us.  He somehow just pushed on through that.  So I ended up shifting again and lodging my elbow into his gut, effectively holding him at just enough of a distance that he was still gyrating in an attempt to find someone to rub against, but couldn't quite reach me.

I got off the train and went to look for an MTA member or something to say, "hey, I got frotteurized," but there were none around and the MTA booth was up a flight, a giant escalator, then another flight of stairs.  So by the time I got there in rush hour I figured my "some creepy dude was on a train that left a few minutes ago" wouldn't be much help.

But anyway, I can't understand this.  I know it is a psychological condition indicating you ain't right, but do these people have day jobs?  I mean, I couldn't just go into a meeting and start rubbing myself on someone at work.  Can they refrain from it all in open spaces but in a crowd something in them just goes "must....rub.....on a disinterested person"?  So many questions.

And, frankly, what is the ultimate goal? Do they ever "finish" (EWWW) or do they just like, take their member home and handle it?

I like how THIS is my return to blogging.  A story about a pervert.