The man said, “Get ready for the show!” and began rhythmically pounding the seat beside him with his hands. Two little girls on the seat across from him hopped up and gyrated down the empty aisles in matching green-striped t-shirts, hands on their hips and in their braided hair. Their skills were straight out of a hip-hop video, and I was embarrassed for them when their dad had to tell them not to move so sexily on the metal poles in the center of the train.
Read the rest here, IF YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE IT.
4 Comments
I read this on Examiner, and it’s just SO GROSS. Those poor little girls. They’ve got a snowball’s chance, man.
I like how you had to stipulate that you read it on Examiner. I think I’m going to start commenting on every post you write with, “Last night, while you and I were having a super-intimate phone conversation and you told this story directly to me with even more detail . . .”
I’m hoping to shame more people into reading your Examiner articles.
But from now on, I’m going to be all, “When you Skyped me this morning right after I got out of the shower…”
seems like everyone these days is capitalising on the death of michael jackson.