Assumptions of Appendage Action

So the other day I am leaving my office. And I get on the bus to go home. And it's one of those smaller busses. My route typically has some of that big ass reticulated double bus action during commuter hours.

But not on this day.

So now bunches-o-people are trying to cram themselves in a bus half the size of what is typical for this particular time and day and place and space and so on and so forth. So we did what anyone trying to get their asses home would do. Shoe horn ourselves in and hold on and hope for the best.

And I'm standing because we now live in a world where men no longer offer their seats to women because we are all "equal" and shit even though we still only make $0.74 on the dollar compared to the average male wage.

But I'm not bitter or anything.

So I'm standing. And I'm fine with this because I have some serious bus surfing skills. We're stuffed into this bus like a can of sardines. Well, I assume we're like a can of sardines. I can't really say, because it's been a long time since I've been in the vicinity of a can of sardines, but I imagine that a can of sardines can't have changed all that much since the last time I saw one. And I don't really remember when I last saw a can of sardines. And I guess it doesn't really matter, because now I'm totally off topic. And this is a perfect example of the tangential nature of my communication and why it is necessary for you to direct the path on occasion.

So what I'm saying is that there is just no way not to be close to other people on the bus in these circumstances. You're all packed together in some sort of bus goo and that's just the way it is. There are things you just have to accept and deal with in these situations. You pretty much expect to get bumped and knocked and such. So I'm standing and I'm thinking. I'm thinking about how I need to clean my bathroom. And I'm humming this little tune that's been running through my head as of late. And life is good.

And then it happens. I'm just standing and thinking about Dow Scrubbing Bubbles and humming in my head and it happens. I feel something.

And at first I didn't pay much attention.

And then I feel it again. I tried to pretend I was imagining things. But I couldn't. This time it was unmistakable.

Someone touched my butt.

And in case my words seem vague, let me clarify this for everyone. SOMEONE on the bus TOUCHED MY BUTT. And if that wasn't bad enough, I think, although I cannot be certain, that someone on the bus touched my butt with a part of their anatomy that was quite possibly NOT their hand.

Eww. Let me just say that again. Eww.

And the worst part of this whole situation was the fact that I had no idea who did it. You might be wondering how it is possible not to know who just TOUCHED YOUR BUTT with a non-hand appendage, but I didn't know. I didn't have a clue. And the prospects were not looking good.

Now let me say that it wouldn't have mattered who was touching my butt, assuming all strangers are created equal. For a stranger touching my butt in a public place with a non-hand appendage, or any appendage for that matter, is just too creepy for me. I have my own set of kinks which I will not discuss here and now because that would be so off topic that I don't think I could find my way back. And I would guess that I have just as many kinks and such as the next grrrl, but I'm really not down with the unsolicited stranger non-hand appendage butt touching on the bus thing.

And if you are down with the unsolicited stranger non-hand appendage butt touching on the bus thing, that's great. I'm not being judgmental. It's just not for me. My biscuit does not get buttered by the unsolicited stranger non-hand appendage butt touching on the bus thing.

Now I realize that my butt tends to be out there in the world taking up space more than most and therefore, it sometimes get in the way. I understand this. Really, I do. But this does not mean that I WANT YOU TO TOUCH IT! Good grief, I mean if you want to touch my butt, you could at least have the decency to ask.

"Excuse me Miss, may I please touch your butt?"

I might spit in your eye, but at least I would have respect for you for having the decency to ask. I'm a sucker for folks who are polite. Oh yeah. Polite is sexy. Unsolicited stranger non-hand appendage butt touching on the bus without even having the decency to ask first is not so much sexy.

So let me just say as an aside that If any of you currently reading this have an overwhelming desire to touch my butt, with or without a non-hand appendage, I promise not to spit in your eye if you ask me first. I might kick you, but I will not spit in your eye.