BOTH Hands on the Wheel!!

A special message for drivers: please, do everyone on the road and in your car a favor. Keep both hands on the wheel, especially if one of your hands is rubbing your penis.

When I got into the car, I knew the driver was a little "off," but I didn't really imagine what would happen next!

The man who jumped in with me immediately grabbed the backseat, as any good slugger wants to do, a bit of a reversed "shotgun." Well, that left me up front with creepy, hairy, pervy guy who decided to give me a bit of a show.

I was nose-deep in my new Blackberry trying to get all my settings to work, and I kept noticing in my peripheral vision that the driver was looking at me every few minutes. I thought maybe he was being nosey or he objected to my technology-focus, but I ignored it until I started to sense that more was happening over there. Traffic was moving relatively quickly, so I expected he was focused on the road. When I turned my head to do the quick cursory glance the next time I sensed him watching me, I noticed he was rubbing his penis. NO guys, not a quick penis adjustment, not a quick scratch and sniff. This was FULL ON RUBBING. How do I know, besides seeing the hand consistently and repeatedly rubbing across his groin? He winked at me. Yes, he fucking winked at me!

From that point forward, roughly another 10 miles, I was so grossed out I could hardly breathe! I kept wondering if the guy in the backseat saw anything and if he did, would he say anything. I debated, internally, whether or not to come straight out and say something or just complete the ride and run. Most of you who know me would assume the former, but for some reason I went with the latter. He gave me about 3 good "yeah, I'm rubbing my penis for you" looks, and I basically felt the need to shower in hot boiling peroxide when I got home.

In retrospect, I can't quite find the reason for NOT speaking out against his self-gratification at my expense. I think it was because I was a little worried, deep down, that he knew the guy in the backseat and this was a setup! Yes, there goes the paranoid mind hard at work. (Note to self: find keychain mace container) I didn't really want to disturb the hornets' nest, so I figured I'd play dead for the rest of the ride home. I hoped that if I didn't react, my chances of just being delivered to my car safely and without his body fluids on me were better than if I raised hell. So, I went against my normal hell-raising, ball-busting (pun intended) instincts, and I chilled.

A note to the Gentlemen riders out there: if a male driver pulls up and you are in line with a woman, give up your shotgun instinct and let her have the backseat. I can't speak for the men, so I won't suggest the opposite be true for the ladies.

All in all, I think I'll take the lunatic speed-racers over the hairy, creepy, penis-touching drivers. Maybe it's just me! If you are a bit on the touchy-feely side, would you guys please hang a sign on your window?