Her: I don’t know why I still say “we” when I refer to my old job. I think I have Stockholm Syndrome.
Me: HA. That’s better than Helsinki Handjobdrome.
Her: ex CUSE me. What?! What is Helsinki Handjobdrome? I don’t know why I’m even asking.
Me: When you give people handjobs for no reason. Duh.
Me: Was that not clear?
Her: Of course it is. You have that issue?
Me: No but it’s happened to me. People just try to jerk me off. Because I’m so handsome.
Her: In public… For no reason…
Me: Sure. Happened on the 2/3 train last week. (Downtown tracks, obvi.)
Her: You let it happen I’m sure. No “Excuse me sir, please unhand me.”
Me: Sir? No, they’re always ladies. This particular lass was homeless. About 65 or 70. She smiled a toothless, gummy grin at me as she quietly jerked me off.
Me: Then she urinated in her pink Dora the Explorer sweatpants and we both got off the train. We never spoke a word to each other. It was magical.
Me: Handjobs aren’t disgusting.
Me: They’re a part of life.
(Ten minutes later)