Tuesday, October 04, 2005

come on, ride my train

The first time it happened, it seemed innocent enough. He sat across from me, caught my eye. A smile. A wink. A laugh. It seemed a bit hilarious to be sitting and flirting across from one another on the train. Exhilirating too. I got off at the next stop to board the express. But it so happened that at 42nd street we were faced with one another again and he waited for me, motioned for me to exit my train and exit onto the street with him. I didn't. I smiled. Shrugged. Went on with my plans and life and had a story to tell.

The next time was this past weekend. I heard this man's voice speaking in Spanish and looked up. Our eyes met. He stared and I didn't break away from his gaze. More people boarded the train and I gave up my seat to a mother and her daughter. He found me through the crowd, motioned for me to talk to him. I smiled and mouthed no. More people board, others exit. He motions more aggressively and at the next stop, when the crowd begins to move, I also push closer. We talk in Spanish (he's Peruvian) and English. He tells me his story, he asks for my number. He fondles my hand as he leaves and even calls me later.

Yesterday morning I was tired. My first day of temping with Time Warner; I was told to be at Human Resources at 8:30 so I leave my house at 7:45. It's only a few stops from 116th that this handsome man boards dressed in an immaculate suit. He stares at me, looks me up and down as if I'm a piece of furniture to be appraised. I ignore him as I read the paper. We're both standing, holding onto the bar, facing the window and two people in front of us. The train is crowded and he makes no attempt to hide his evaluation of me. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he inches closer. Several stops pass, each rock of the train, every jounce in the ride gets him that much closer as he stares at his target -- my leg. I begin to harden. It's one of those involuntary reactions -- that male gaze has just as much power on males. And then after the current stop he makes contact and rubs his knuckle into the head of my penis. I'm shocked. Intrigued. It's creepy and strange. And I'm screaming in my head. THIS IS FROTTAGE! MY FIRST REAL LIFE FROTTAGE! I mean I've read about it, joked often, but never thought it would happen to me. How have I been chosen? Is it something about the way I look at people on the train? This is the third time in less than a month that I've gotten such aggressive attention. But nothing like this. I'm paralyzed as he firmly but surreptisiously rubs me -- inches from the oblivious faces of the two passengers.

Then a female colleague recognizes him and he breaks the touch. He turns and strikes up a conversation and we're at 50th street. My stop. I'm out. Ready to start fresh on my first day of a new job. I walk towards Rockefeller Center, find my building across from Radio City Music Hall. Ah. Who needs caffeine to get you going in the morning?

12 Comments:

At 7:16 AM, Anonymous Suz said...

Ah! Frottage on the public transportation system! I remember it fondly from my youth riding the bus in San Juan. Unfortunately, I was frequently stoned at the time, so I wouldn't even realize it was happening until it was almost too late!

 
At 8:54 AM, Blogger dayone said...

Ok, how come this shit isn't happening in Chicago...or maybe they don't do it to old marrieds...

 
At 10:57 AM, Blogger Guillem said...

hmm... this used to happen in Barcelona subway too (at least it did when I didn't have a bike). Actually, I met my second boyfriend that way (I was the stalker then and I was 22)...

 
At 11:30 AM, Blogger Dee said...

Wow.

 
At 8:29 PM, Blogger Jerry said...

yago! so dirty. I love it. I knew there were so many reasons we were friends. And suz! you too! so great.

 
At 5:57 AM, Blogger Dee said...

The same, exact thing happened to me at work, the other day, when I went upstairs to check the mail, except it wasn't a businessman, it was Andre 3000.

 
At 6:04 AM, Blogger Dee said...

Maybe your pants are too tight, Jerry. Perhaps you should try wearing looser-fitting clothing. And muumuus are so colorful!

 
At 12:10 PM, Blogger TRAYB said...

Jesus Christ. I've been riding MTA for nine months now and I've had NOTHING like this happen to me. Not once. Yeah, some eye contact, but that's about it.
Damn. Maybe I'm not sending out the right signals. (Or not riding the right trains?)

Then again, public sex always freaks me out, so it's probably for the best.

 
At 8:54 PM, Blogger klahd said...

Uh, which line do you ride?! The only thing I get on the N is pushy old asian ladies and homeless people. I need to move into the city...

 
At 9:25 PM, Blogger Jerry said...

The 1 baby, the 1 line all the way

 
At 1:55 PM, Anonymous carl harris said...

This is very cool, Jerry. About a year ago I was on a crowded bus to school (in winter; I think the day after a snowshower), and a cute blue-eyed skinhead got on at the medical school in his green scrubs. I didn't realize what was happening at first, but when when his hand started rubbing against the inside of my leg it was like an electircal shock. It's very different from the same kind of thing that might happen in the showers at the gym, or in a bar.

 
At 7:19 AM, Blogger Dee said...

The last time I got felt up was during Steeplechase in Nashville.

 

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