I Always Go To the Graveyard to Pick Up Women, Don’t You?

Grad school, Eugene Oregon- cutting through the graveyard behind the library, trying to get back from class to chat the bus in time, so as to not have to pay my sitter extra. Wearing a backpack with probably 40 lbs of books in it. Bunch of frat boys knocking down 40s and sitting on gravestones, see me and start up with the catcalls. One of them pull down his sweats, and whips out his penis. “Betcha want some of _that_, doncha?” His buddies are laughing. I stopped looked at his penis, looked him in the face and said: “Isn’t that cute! Why, it’s just like a penis, only smaller!” and went on my way. No more catcalls, a couple of “Bitch…” as I passed them.

Submitted by Laura.

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