Regarding Kitty Litter and Unfamiliar Penises

Yesterday was one of those New York City days that makes you (well, maybe not YOU, but certainly me) want to throw some shit into a bag, go to Port Authority and just hop on the next bus to like, Nebraska or something. The city literally kicked my ass yesterday, and I didn't really have the energy to fight back.

The culmination of my Very Bad Day ended on my walk home from work. It's not a short walk -- it takes me between an hour and an hour and a half, but sometimes the demons need to be exercised, and I had to stop by the vet's office anyway, so I decided to go for it.

At the vet's office, I had to pick up some very expensive little pieces of paper to put into the kitty litter box and measure whether or not Mulder's glucose level is off. He's got the diabetes, you see. As I walked down Avenue A, near Tompkin's Square park, I decided to take the pamphlet out and read the directions as I walked, so I could go home, get it done quickly and then order my sushi and settle in to watch American Idol from the night before.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man approaching me.

"Excuse me, Miss." He said. I ignored him, picked up my pace and studied my pamphlet just a little bit harder.

"Excuse me, Miss." He repeated. Again, I ignored him. After he repeated it for a third time, I gave him an impatient glare. He looked down. My glance followed his. His fly was unzipped and his penis was in his hand.

Shocked, I quickly looked away and started walking away fast. As I got farther away, so did the sound of him laughing.

The thing is, you see a lot of shit if you live in this city. A 40-year-old woman singing Crazy for You into a karaoke machine at the subway station. That chick who used to dress up like a superhero and walk drunk girls home late at night. Handlebar moustaches. You kind of get to a point where nothing bothers you or shocks you anymore. When I got a second-long glance at a stranger's penis, though, I couldn't believe how shaken up I was. And I really was. So I guess I'm not as desensitized as I thought.

It was nowhere near as amusing as when I was in college and my good friend CVS Mike would whip his out intermittently and say, "Come on Jess. Look. I just want to know if you think it's small or not," while I covered my eyes and shrieked, "Put it away! I don't want to look!" Now that shit was funny.