The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Hand me the Purell

An open letter to the man on the subway last night:

Dear sir,
I am the first to admit that I've had a "few" while out at happy hour, and have met someone special that I'd like to take home, so I know what you were going through. I saw you making out with your girlfriend on the subway, and at first it was sweet. Hell, I've done the same.

But I think you took it a little far. You see, your kissing your girlfriend took on a much sexual tone, especially when you put your hand up her dress, and it was very obvious that you were both aroused (especially the way her one leg was resting over yours).

Yes, I'm sorry I was staring, but when you removed your now glistening wet finger and sniffed it, I honestly nearly threw up a little. And I wasn't the only one. The woman next to me let out a gasp of surprise with that move. That was just nasty.

Lastly, and most importantly, what bothered me the most, was that when you reached your stop, you GRABBED the handrail with that now nasty smelling hand! I hold those rails. And yesterday, I was not carrying my Purell.

I hope you burn in hell.

Sincerely.

Patrick - 6:57 PM -

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