If you ask, they’ll whip it out.

  Flub. His pink, flaccid, ginger pube-concealed dong flopped into his hand, as the two men on either side of me quickly turned their heads, uncomfortably averted their eyes, and focused on smoking their cigarettes. I’ll be damned, it worked again. I unleashed my usual response: throwing my head back, cackling, and pointing at the saggy little spring roll.

It wasn’t necessarily the size of it that made me chuckle, or that it appeared softer than a marshmallow, but the fact that this stranger actually had the balls to hang dong on demand. (And the fact that he looked like Simple Jack from Tropic Thunder didn’t much help me contain my laughter.) He shrugged, stuffed his sad, wilted, wiener back inside his frayed denim shorts, and walked away — surprisingly unscathed by the incident. Yes… this is how I sometimes choose to pass the time.

My question for Simple Jack, and the forthcoming others who have complied to my request, is this: What did you expect? Me to start stroking it and stuffing it into my mouth in front of everyone? Of course I’m going to laugh at a limp penis in public, who the hell wouldn’t? And, for fuck’s sake, why wouldn’t you at least slap some sense into it before showing it off?

Let’s just make a rule: If it isn’t at half-mast, or at least shows signs of curiosity, keep it in your pants (whether I ask you to take it out or not). I’m not getting my hand, mouth, or otherwise near that sucker until there‘s a sign of life. Trust me, you’ll be doing yourself a favor, showing off a drooping noodle isn’t going to get you anywhere. Actually, nothing is going to get you anywhere because my goal in asking a man to whip it out is only A.) to see if he will, and B.) because its fucking hilarious. You may be wondering why I do this for pleasure. I’m sick in the head, I won’t be coy. I do wonder whether I’m the only person flirting with dick-disaster, but, unlike masturbation, there aren’t articles in teen magazines informing you that the act of asking people to pull out their dicks is completely normal. Don’t worry, everyone does it.

It was about six years ago when I first asked a sloppily drunk man to whip it out with the intention of mocking his intoxicated demeanor. (Read: just to fuck with him.) I remember it like it was yesterday: Baseball cap, polo shirt, and… dare I suggest khaki shorts? The sorry excuse for a douche bag unzipped his zipper, pulled it out and let it sag down from the front of his pants. For five minutes he casually stood there with his hands in his pockets and his meat hanging out of his zipper. It was almost as if he forgot it was visible. He casually carried on a conversation with my friend — so casually, in fact, that she didn’t even notice his prick until she saw myself and another girl pointing at his crotch and practically peeing ourselves out of hysteria.

On another occasion, a random man pulled it out on a crowded dance floor. In this case, I had been talking to him for maybe two minutes, and that puppy was out before I finished the sentence. Please note, I didn’t say question, I said sentence. I don’t even ask them to, I simply suggest, “Let’s see your dick.”

I guess I probably lead them on; but, shit, it’s only a proposition. I don’t recall signing a contract. And, although I am clearly to blame for encouraging these three examples of disturbing public exhibition, I‘ve never suggested a man hang dong and been denied.

So what’s their motivation? Do they simply enjoy showing it off? Are they just confident? Is it because these certain individuals never get the chance to show a woman their dick? Do they need feedback on the size, shape and color? Do they actually think the outcome will be a hand job/blow job/etc.? Whatever your reasons, power to ya, shameless dick showers. You had me at flub.

I‘m a dick grabber

I’m not sure whether or not you read the fine print, but if I know you, and you’re a man — be you friend, acquaintance or mere passer-by — I will most likely grab your cock at some point in time. Consider this your dick disclaimer. It’s not that I’m a complete pervert (it is), or that I’m coming on to you (I am), or even that I’m just trying to make you uncomfortable (totally); it’s that we clearly had an unwritten arrangement and in this state verbal agreements are legally binding.

The Witness:

Back in a previous slut stage — I am currently wedged between stages four and five — I awoke to a stranger and later pondered how someone so drunk (moi) was able to seal the deal effectively, if not skillfully. It took an eye-witness to bring me to the realization that, when I binge drink liquid courage, I straight-up seize a handful of schlong without hesitation. Is that such a crime? Bam! Your junk done got grasped. Whatcha gonna do about it? No, seriously… any thoughts on that?

The Crime:

I guess when it comes down to it, this is downright sexual harassment, and I should probably take a moment to thank everyone for thus far not suing me: thank you. But also, is it that bad to have someone caress or clasp your package? Shit, I’m cute. Is it that invasive? Yes? Well, fuck you, have we met? This is just me: sick, wrong and fabulously so. People are quick to either love me or hate me, so if you’re still around at this point you already know I’m a psychotic, crazy, asshole and you’ve come to terms with that fact. So let’s embrace the dick-grabbage, shall we? Everybody loves a semi.

The Motives:

Sizing you up

Perhaps this bothers you because you’re concerned I’m going to out you for having a baby dong. Well, if so, get over it. There’s a reason women know that the distance from the tip of one’s outspread thumb to the tip of the pointer finger is six inches, and the distance from wrist to elbow is a foot. And that the difference between the circumference of a loop made with one’s pointer finger and thumb, compared to one’s middle finger and thumb, is the difference of about an inch in girth. Don’t make us just eyeball it, let us measure that sucker. I’m up for leaving things to the imagination, but sometimes you just gotta know what you’re working with… or maybe you’re just trying to inspire the person.

Throwing it out there

Even when sizing it up is not the motive, it couldn’t hurt to throw it out there, right? If a flirtatious embrace happens to result in some sort of physical reaction, what’s the harm in that? I once tapped a guy in the nuts three times in a row and he had to leave the bar and go home for fear of growing a garden snake. This ballsy, so to speak, approach seems to signify, hey, I’m comfortable touching your penis. So, like… maybe I should… and maybe you want me to… more… later… I think so. Or, Oh, weird, what does thing do? Let’s find out. But maybe you don’t even want to get it on; maybe you’re just drunk and attempting to amuse yourself.

For the hell of it

Sometimes I’ll drunkenly grab the man piece of one of my close male friends just to fuck with him. But at least one of them grabs my tits for his amusement, so screw it. And be wary, homosexual men, you are not safe from my charming molestation. Once I felt up a gay guy and then laughingly pointed and shouted, “That was squishy!” Fast forward to me telling that story to a friend the next morning: “… and that was the second penis I couldn’t get hard that night…” (God damn it.)

Because I’m totally shit-faced (implied in each category)

I mean, c’mon, it’s not like I’m doing this while sober (typically). If I’m snatching man-meat, or “monkey junk,” as one friend puts it, I’m clearly incoherent and without acknowledgment of any degree of ethics or morality. Give me a few drinks and I’m like a malnourished orangutan, purposefully clutching a bunch of bananas and clumsily shoving them towards my mouth.

The Verdict:

Is this behavior appropriate? No. Have I ever claimed to be appropriate? No. Will I ever be appropriate? I wouldn’t bet on it. So, if you have an affinity for poor decisions like I do, I recommend you try this method. The worst that could happen is you’ll get punched right in the face. And, hey, if not, you may even get some action.