My friend Lauren, on one of the city’s most quintessential experiences:
The creepy subway dude knows what he wants, and he will stare at it from 207th street all the way downtown. Do not be alarmed, for this is simply how the creepy subway dude shows his affection. If you scowl or pretend to fall asleep or put on dark glasses, this will only interest him more. In the most extreme cases, he will get up from where he is already sitting in a nearly empty train to sit next to you, and then turn and whisper a single, horrifically dirty sweet nothing in your ear before you get up and run out of the car. It might be 4 a.m. and you might be tired, but it’s probably a good idea to take a long, hot shower, then exfoliate and dispose of your entire outer layer of skin when you get home.
My all-time favorite: the smoothtalker who sidled up to me on the 42nd St N platform just to say, “Hey baby, you should let me fuck you in the ass.” Most creepy subway dudes will either state what they’d like to do to you outright (“I want to fuck you in the ass.”) or phrase it in the interrogative (“How about I fuck you in the ass?”), but not this one. No, he wanted the possibility to actually be considered. I didn’t, of course—I gave him my best Classic Inscrutable Asian Face and walked away as calmly as I could manage—but every time I tell this story I wonder if someone’s ever taken him up on the offer.
