So there I was, driving from Fredericksburg to Mineral and stuck behind a school bus full of high school aged kids. While stopped at a stoplight, one of them apparently decided to try and see what kind of reaction he could get from the driver of the vehicle right behind the bus (that'd be me). As I sat waiting for the light to turn green, a fine, upstanding young man stood up in the center, while four other faces turned back and glued to the glass. The gentlemen that was standing then looked right at me, opened his fly, and pressed his junk against the rear window while the other four started giggling. I stared blankly like I hadn't seen it while I pondered my next move.
Ten years ago, this situation might have bothered me. But that was before I spent a decade in the submarine force, including five years as a qualified urinalysis observer. As it turns out, I've seen a penis or two in my day. And, in the book of penile puppetry, the pressed salami is so basic it doesn't even warrant a mention in the introductory chapter. There was no reaction to be had. Then a pure act of genius (If I do say so myself) came over me, and I gave him exactly what he wanted - a reaction.
I acted confused for a second, then squinted and leaned forward like I was trying to make out small details. He looked mildly confused at that. Then I started laughing hysterically while pointing right at his junk. He turned red in a flash. I laughed harder. For effect, I held my thumb and forefinger about two and a half inches apart, looked at my hand, looked at him, back at my hand, and then resumed pointing and laughing. Now the four faces that were anxiously awaiting my reaction (including two girls) had also turned and were pointing and laughing at him. He looked horrified, and his face was so red that he looked sunburnt. Now I was laughing for real. He tucked his junk away, and slumped down in the nearest seat, low enough that no part of his head rose over the seat back.
Over the next six miles (until the bus turned), one of the other four would occasionally look back to see if I was still following then start laughing again.
The unfortunately sad aspect of all of this though, is that I would not doubt that I just gave him more humility in four seconds than his parents gave him in 18 years.
Ten years ago, this situation might have bothered me. But that was before I spent a decade in the submarine force, including five years as a qualified urinalysis observer. As it turns out, I've seen a penis or two in my day. And, in the book of penile puppetry, the pressed salami is so basic it doesn't even warrant a mention in the introductory chapter. There was no reaction to be had. Then a pure act of genius (If I do say so myself) came over me, and I gave him exactly what he wanted - a reaction.
I acted confused for a second, then squinted and leaned forward like I was trying to make out small details. He looked mildly confused at that. Then I started laughing hysterically while pointing right at his junk. He turned red in a flash. I laughed harder. For effect, I held my thumb and forefinger about two and a half inches apart, looked at my hand, looked at him, back at my hand, and then resumed pointing and laughing. Now the four faces that were anxiously awaiting my reaction (including two girls) had also turned and were pointing and laughing at him. He looked horrified, and his face was so red that he looked sunburnt. Now I was laughing for real. He tucked his junk away, and slumped down in the nearest seat, low enough that no part of his head rose over the seat back.
Over the next six miles (until the bus turned), one of the other four would occasionally look back to see if I was still following then start laughing again.
The unfortunately sad aspect of all of this though, is that I would not doubt that I just gave him more humility in four seconds than his parents gave him in 18 years.
*shakes head*
I would have given him a thumbs up. No, two. And duck lips.
(I'm kidding. What you did was funny.)