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Can a Guy Who Just Wants to Stream Porn on The Train Get Some Peace and Quiet?

I’m going to be upfront with you: When I hear, “doors closing,” followed by, “this is a Red Line Train to Howard,” I enter fuck mode. In the hundreds of thousands who take the L everyday, watching porn on the train is kinda my schtick. 

Maybe it’s the calming tone of the robotic man over the speakers, but who am I kidding? I know that it’s time to be holed up in that conductor space at the front and/or back of the train car, loading up a 720p rendering of “Busty Babe F**ked by Huge C**k” on my iPhone, getting ready to get my daily dose of all-exposed skin.  

I work eight straight hours—without watching porn!—and finally I get some me time on the train, alone to my thoughts and 16 minutes of all the uncensored, all-natural fuck tapes I’ve been thinking about all day long.

By just reading that, I know you know the ones I’m talking about.

That little conductor space? That’s my porn hub. XXX HQ, if you may. Porntopia, Mount Rushwhore, the Seven Natural Boobies of the World—I’ve thought of them all. This is the center of all that is unholy, the place where I can unwind after being told by Linda in Human Resources that they’ve pulled up my search history from the past two weeks and are letting me off with a warning after what they found. 

Here’s a warning, Linda: You must be 18 years old to watch this content, and I’ll be damned if you get on the same train as me and tell me what to do.

Yet, as someone who watches porn religiously (and religious porn), my existence is threatened. It seems like more and more these days, I’m joined in my little nook and cranny by a man reading a book, or some old woman who gives me weird glances, or, God forbid, someone who is physically or mentally incapacitated. And, at that point, I’m just too sad and guilty to even look at my phone.  

So, I’ve come to an ultimatum and have some news for my fellow Red Line passengers. That little conductor space at the front and/or back of the car? That’s all mine. If you think for even a second that that little space might be a good place to stand with your husband on your way down to Midway, I’ve got one creepy stare and one terabyte of downloaded porn on an external hard drive that you do not want to fuck with. 

In conclusion, from the time I get on at Jackson until I get off at Sheridan, stay away from me and let me watch my porn in peace and quiet. 

 

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