Last Monday, I found myself sitting on a Northern Line tube train on the way to meet a new er - client at Embankment station when I noticed this young woman staring at me. I thought at first she might have died and no one had discovered her.
A bit like that lonely man in the 1970s who died on the tube on his way to work and nobody noticed and he kept riding around the Central line for about 6 weeks until the smell became unbearable.
But here this woman could not take her peepers off me. When I say "Me", I mean "My groin area". Yes, I know the concept is strange, but she was glaring at the Geoff trouserlump. Well, she is only human, after all.
As the train rattled through the famous London sewers, I found myself feeling quite violated. I was being optically raped. I know pretty women get this kind of thing all the time, but this is different - They are all used to it and enjoy the attention. However, I did not. I felt like this woman was mentally gnawing my 'nana. In public, too. And for free when I usually bill the clients £15.50 for such a treat.
Despite all attempts to make eye contact with her to telegraph my feelings that I thought that her eyes were visually abusing me, I checked first to see if I had something on my lap area that was causing her eyes to become glued to my crotch as I made the error last Christmas of trying to rapidly fingernail off some chocolate which had plopped onto my fly while standing on platform 5 at London Bridge next to a group of Millwall supporters. They misconstrued my actions and I earned a whack on the nose for my trouble.
By Kennington, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Literally because I had a monumental itch down there. Oh my God. I can't scratch it - what if she thinks I'm perving at her and rubbing myself erotically and it gets me chucked off the train and I'll get arrested and end up in the newspapers as Geoff Prickett, The London Underground Pocket Billiards Player.
Then that would be the end of my Horizontal Gigolo career!
Anyway, this woman kept staring. After about 12 minutes of this, she finally spoke to me - At least I think she was talking to me because she was still unable to tear her eyes away from my latent bulge, and in a voice that even the Driver would have heard at the other end of the train said: "I hope you don't sink I'm rude. I've never done anything like thees before, but I haf been looking at you since Tooting Broadway and you haf got a fantastic package."
I gazed around at the other passengers. In true London Underground style, everyone was pretending they couldn't see or hear. Despite this, my face flushed red with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "Thank you," I uttered.
That evening we went out for a nice meal at an Aberdeen Angus steakhouse. We got on famously, laughing and joking and immediately I felt myself falling for this creature. I learnt much about her. She was from the Czech Republic, liked football and was really pissed off that her country was kicked out of the Euro Championships.
A bit like that lonely man in the 1970s who died on the tube on his way to work and nobody noticed and he kept riding around the Central line for about 6 weeks until the smell became unbearable.
But here this woman could not take her peepers off me. When I say "Me", I mean "My groin area". Yes, I know the concept is strange, but she was glaring at the Geoff trouserlump. Well, she is only human, after all.
As the train rattled through the famous London sewers, I found myself feeling quite violated. I was being optically raped. I know pretty women get this kind of thing all the time, but this is different - They are all used to it and enjoy the attention. However, I did not. I felt like this woman was mentally gnawing my 'nana. In public, too. And for free when I usually bill the clients £15.50 for such a treat.
Despite all attempts to make eye contact with her to telegraph my feelings that I thought that her eyes were visually abusing me, I checked first to see if I had something on my lap area that was causing her eyes to become glued to my crotch as I made the error last Christmas of trying to rapidly fingernail off some chocolate which had plopped onto my fly while standing on platform 5 at London Bridge next to a group of Millwall supporters. They misconstrued my actions and I earned a whack on the nose for my trouble.
By Kennington, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Literally because I had a monumental itch down there. Oh my God. I can't scratch it - what if she thinks I'm perving at her and rubbing myself erotically and it gets me chucked off the train and I'll get arrested and end up in the newspapers as Geoff Prickett, The London Underground Pocket Billiards Player.
Then that would be the end of my Horizontal Gigolo career!
Anyway, this woman kept staring. After about 12 minutes of this, she finally spoke to me - At least I think she was talking to me because she was still unable to tear her eyes away from my latent bulge, and in a voice that even the Driver would have heard at the other end of the train said: "I hope you don't sink I'm rude. I've never done anything like thees before, but I haf been looking at you since Tooting Broadway and you haf got a fantastic package."
I gazed around at the other passengers. In true London Underground style, everyone was pretending they couldn't see or hear. Despite this, my face flushed red with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "Thank you," I uttered.
That evening we went out for a nice meal at an Aberdeen Angus steakhouse. We got on famously, laughing and joking and immediately I felt myself falling for this creature. I learnt much about her. She was from the Czech Republic, liked football and was really pissed off that her country was kicked out of the Euro Championships.
The evening ended with a kiss at the door (Hey, come on - I'm not a sex maniac!)
She told me that she made the same tube journey everyday, and even though I didn't, I planned to surprise her the following morning. Equipped with flowers and a Terry's Chocolate Orange, I joined the train at Collier's Wood and found her in the last carriage. She didn't see me and I couldn't sit near her as the train was packed with travellers. She was talking to a bloke sitting opposite her. It wasn't hard to hear what she was saying as her voice carried as much as it did the day before.
Yes, that's right. Altogether now:
"I hope you don't sink I'm rude." She said to him. " I've never done anything like thees before, but I haf been looking at you since Tooting Broadway and you haf got a fantastic package."
I alighted the train at the next station. Bloody women. I felt used. And not in a good way either.
Geoff's Blog: Keeping it up on an underground basis
Geoff Prickett (It's pronounced Prickett)
She told me that she made the same tube journey everyday, and even though I didn't, I planned to surprise her the following morning. Equipped with flowers and a Terry's Chocolate Orange, I joined the train at Collier's Wood and found her in the last carriage. She didn't see me and I couldn't sit near her as the train was packed with travellers. She was talking to a bloke sitting opposite her. It wasn't hard to hear what she was saying as her voice carried as much as it did the day before.
Yes, that's right. Altogether now:
"I hope you don't sink I'm rude." She said to him. " I've never done anything like thees before, but I haf been looking at you since Tooting Broadway and you haf got a fantastic package."
I alighted the train at the next station. Bloody women. I felt used. And not in a good way either.
Geoff's Blog: Keeping it up on an underground basis
Geoff Prickett (It's pronounced Prickett)
4 comments:
This is a shameful blog. Shame on you.
So it's all right for males to eye up women all the time, is it?
We only eye up the ones who know when to say "No, thank you" to that fourth slice of black forest gateau.
And come out from your 'Anonymouses' (Anonymousi?) you Millie Tants.
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