Folks, there's a thong bandit on the loose! He's terrorizing the citizens of Denver, Colorado. Police are looking for a man who has reportedly been cornering people, undressing down to a thong, and then exposing himself further -- hence the nickname, "thong bandit." Ugh, flashers. WHY. Under the right circumstances I am only too happy to gaze upon a man scepter, but flashing has got to be the most unpleasant surprise ever invented.
Surprise me with ice cream? Yay! Surprise me with your Hugh Jwang? Don't want. No. Put it away.
I was flashed once at close range. I was waiting for a train at the subway late at night. This guy in a trench coat (OMG, what a cliche!) sauntered over and opened his coat. There it was, in all its erect glory: The Penis I Did Not Ask to See. It took me a moment to even recognize what I was looking at.
That's the worst thing about flashers. They ALWAYS get a good, long look. That's because a man's stuffed monkey is the last thing people expect to see, and then suddenly there it is, and we all have to stare for a minute just to realize what we're looking at. Ugh, the flasher wins -- every time!
Ever since that unfortunate flashing incident, I've been composing what I hope to be willy-wilting comebacks. Like, "Meh, I've seen bigger." Or "Could you move into the light a bit? I can't tell what you're trying to show me." Or "Honey, you need to find a new line of business because you're gonna go penniless with that one." Or "Well you're no Magic Mike." But if I ever get flashed again, I'll probably just panic and forget my one-liners until the flasher's moved on.
Anway, I hope they find the Thong Bandit. I suggest female officers going undercover with hidden cameras. Under trench coats. Can you imagine? Thong Bandit flashes, they open their coats and take photos, off to jail he goes, and Denver women get the last laugh.
Have you ever been flashed? What did you do?
Image via robin_24/Flickr