Why All Lesbians Are Evil

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Sometimes I swear that my parents must’ve lost a bet to the gods the day I was born; because no one on earth could possibly have any worst luck than mine.  Case and point; last Friday night after having one too many vodka gimlets in the city, I decided to take the A train back home to Brooklyn.  Even though the A train is notorious for having somewhat shady characters late at night; I figured “Hell I’m a guy, what’s the worst that can happen to me?”

It was about 3am, so the trains were all pretty much a ghost town by now.  When I stumbled on to the A, I immediately noticed a group of about 6 girls huddled over on the other side of the car.  Judging by the fact that sitting there together, you would’ve sworn that you were looking at the Wu Tang Clan and with voices just as deep; I think it’s pretty safe to assume that they were all lesbians.  In fact, I’d never seen so many manly looking women before in my life.  Between all of their work boots; their baggy jeans sagged low over their boxers; and the way they pulled their Yankee caps low as they each took turns spitting their favorite Jay Z lyrics; it suddenly donned on me that they actually kind of looked more masculine than me.  Sitting there in my skinny jeans, new white espadrilles, and my yellow metro-sexual v-neck I just got from American Apparel; I think it was pretty darn obvious who the bitch was on that train.  With that said I just leaned back in my seat, and continued listening to The Best of Mariah Carey on my Iphone.  I’ll tell you; absolutely no one belts out a ballad like that lady.

When the train made a stop at Canal, to my surprise another big group of lesbians got on.  Believe it or not, but this group was even more masculine than the first.  Actually this group of women was so big and Black, that my first thought was “Wow, there must be a Biggie Smalls lookalike conventions in town.”  In fact, these new bitches were so butch that they actually made the first group look like The Pussy Cat Dolls.  Several of them even had goatees, which really f*cked me up.  At 3 am when you’re already tipsy, the last thing you need to see is a bunch of women looking like Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes.  It took me a few extra minutes to process it.  Now normally, it would be every guy’s fantasy to be stuck on a subway car at three in the morning surrounded by large groups of lesbians.  However, this was most certainly not one of those occasions.

Apparently, the two groups of lesbians must’ve been some kind of rivals.  Because moments after the 2^nd group got on, there were lots of dirty looks followed by several nasty comments coming from both sides.  Eventually things escalated because before I knew it, both sides had jumped up and began squaring off right there in the center of the train.  Just as I’m really starting to get into Dream Lover; I looked up and suddenly everyone is now holding knives, bats, and brass knuckles around their fists.  One girl even whipped out a big 12 inch black dildo with metal spikes around the head.  I thought “What the f*ck is she going to do with that monstrosity?”  Truthfully, it kind of scared me a little.  I thought to myself, “I hope to God these sex toy companies are not using “real” models when they come up with these sizes.  Because if there are really guys out there that big; then my ass is in a heap of trouble.”  It would certainly explain why after all these years, women never seem to get a call back the next day.

Suddenly from out of nowhere, the prettiest one of the bunch who looked like a cross between Marsha Warfield and Refrigerator Perry threw the first punch.  The next thing you know the entire train broke into complete pandemonium.  Meanwhile here I am, a little 5’6 Black guy, trapped in the middle of a pack of big lesbian gang bitches out for blood.  I had never seen women fight like this before in my life.  Truthfully, men either.  There were chin checks, body blows, and bitches hitting bitches with bats.  For a second there, I actually thought I was watching that movie The Warriors in 3D (The Deleted Scenes).  The only thing missing was the little guy with the freaky voice clinking two bottles between his fingers.  It was pretty clear that the first group of lesbians were no match for the second.  They did their best to hold them off; but as soon as the train came to a stop at Hoyt Street, they decided to make a run for it.  The second group took off running right after them.  Now here I am, still completely floored, and thinking “Okay, did I just stumble on some kind of secret underworld war zone?”  Who knows; maybe lesbians always fight each other to the death, late at night on the trains when no one else is around?  As far as we know, this could’ve been going on since the beginning of time.  I could hardly wait to go write a letter to the people from True Blood and tell them damn those werewolves.  If they really want to up it a notch, they need to introduce a pack of butch lesbians on the show.  Talk about scary; those poor vampires wouldn’t knew what hit them.

Since Hoyt was also my stop, I got off the train too.  Walking up the stairs, I thought “Damn why didn’t I take pictures, because no one is ever going to believe what I just saw.”   Still giggling to myself, I pulled out my phone to send off a tweet.  Just as I was pressing send, I heard a voice yell out “There goes another one!  Get em’!”  When I looked up, I saw the 2^nd group of lesbians running towards my direction.  Still a bit tipsy, I thought “Wow, it’s still not over!   Let me get phone ready so I can record it this time.”   Just as I turned around ready to push record; I realized that for some crazy reason, they all had now surrounded me; hyena style.  Somewhat confused, I explained “Oh I’m sorry.  There’s obviously some kind of confusion here.  I wasn’t with that group of girls just now.”  The leader of the pack all of a sudden stepped up and said “Don’t try to sell out yo’ crew now!  I’m sick of you bitches always talkin’ shit at the club!”  It suddenly hit me what was going on here.  I quickly exclaimed, “Wait, you have this all wrong!  Really!  I’m not a lesbian.”  At that point, all of the girls literally fell out on the floor laughing.  The leader then replied “Bitch please!  You may not be the most masculine one of the bunch.  But I know a tired ass dike when I see one.  Y’all get that bitch!!”

Thinking fast; I quickly socked the smallest one in the eye who looked just like Gary Coleman, and then took off running.  So now here I am, running for my life through the streets of Brooklyn, with a pack of angry butch lesbians hot on my ass.  This was definitely not the way I wanted to end my Friday night.  The next thing you know, I tripped over one of my damn espadrilles; and before I knew it they were all standing over me kicking and punching me in the side.  And just for the record, lesbians are extremely heavy handed.  Next, a few of them held down my arms and legs so that I couldn’t get up.  Suddenly, the leader steps up and yells “It’s time to really punish this bitch now!  Break out Big Brutus!!”  Now of course I’m thinking “Uh oh…what the hell is Big Brutus?  This is not looking good.”

The next thing you know, one of the girls pulled back out the big black 12 inch rubber dildo with the spikes from earlier on the train.  Then as if on cue, two others began unbuttoning my pants.  I swear; you would’ve sworn that Liam Neeson had just announced for them to “Release the Kraken!”; because as soon as I looked up and saw that big black rubber dildo whipping back and forth in the wind; I thought to myself “Oh God, No!!!.”  Panicked beyond belief, the only thing I could do was yell out “Jesus please be with me” right before I passed out cold.  I guess my brain had seen enough episodes of OZ to realize that I probably wouldn’t want to be conscious for what was coming next.  So just like when I was five, and my alcoholic grandmother used to breastfeed me, just so she could buy Colt 45 with the money my mother left for food; I went inside to my little happy place to hide until it was all done.

In the middle of being unconscious, I suddenly heard them saying, “Oh sh*t… we f*cked up!  He really isn’t a lesbian.”  When I came to seconds later, with my underwear still down to my ankles; the lesbians were all extremely apologetic saying repeatedly how sorry they were; and how it was an honest mistake; and that it really could’ve happened to anyone.   But as I stood up to gather myself, I realized that they all seemed to be looking at me with judgment, and snickering.  When I realized exactly what they were all laughing at, it absolutely infuriated me.  I yelled “What the hell is so funny?  Obviously this isn’t my normal size!  I was scared! ” Hell, everyone knows that being petrified is just like being in water.  It causes severe shrinkage.  Still snickering as they walked away, they tried patronizing me by saying, “Hey man… it’s not a problem.  We totally get it.”  As I walked back home that night still battered and bruised, I declared in that moment that I absolutely hate all lesbians: what the hell do they know about penises anyway?  And I can’t wait until I see another one on the train, so I can finally show them what my “normal” size looks like.

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