HJ's.... in Public

Alright gang, sorry for the coarse title, but this story couldn't be understated. What's more, it's long overdue - I turned 23 in June, and now I'm old like whoa. Okay, so the night of, I'm out on the town in the sprawling metropolis of Evansville, IN. We've settled in at my favorite bar downtown overlooking the river, and we're sitting having drinks (sitting. Yeah, turning 23 ain't like turning 21. Enjoy the days of your youth.) Well about 3.5 feet away, I look over at the adjacent table to find... yes, you've guessed it my bloglets, an upstanding gentleman receiving what appears to be a well-practiced version of a Boy Scout technique for maintaining blood flow to particularly masculine extremities. I find this more than amusing, and I point it out to my fellow table-dwellers. Looking back, I use my ocular abilities to note that he is more gentleman than I first surmised - he is in fact repaying the favor at this outdoor venue, in front of God and everyone.

I can't help but continue my gawking (please forgive me here; it was like a car wreck), and this well-orchestrated hand-sex dance continues for several minutes, with intermittent stops as the waitress drops in to make sure the couple doesn't need anything else: normally another drink, but in this case maybe some protection of a latex nature. As the couple get up to leave, presumably to engage in lengthy discussion about the proper compromise to solve the Palestinian-Israeli dilemma (you think he's a Two-Stater?), I at the same time lose every bit of the politeness my mother has worked to beat into me. And I mean every bit. When they are no more than 25 feet away, I wonder out loud to my coterie, "Did he not use his eyes?" It turns out the girl was startlingly unattractive, and I wasn't reticent to mention it in full voice.

Did he/she hear me, or were they too engrossed in their public tryst? I'm not quite sure, but I am sure that God heard me. And He didn't laugh nearly as hard as I did.