The Writer XI

It was far too hot outside to sit for long and he was pretty hungover from the night before so we cut it a bit short; I hated the feeling of everything sticking to me.  We threw our garbage out and walked back to his car that was a few blocks away.

He jumped in first and turned the air conditioning on so I wouldn't melt into his leather seats but even the cool air could barely take away the sun beating in through the windows.  We pulling into heavy lunch hour traffic in Harold Square and for a brief minute I thought I had heat stroke when he undid his pants and proceeded to masturbate not only in front of me but in front of all of the people walking by the car in every direction.  I was frozen in disbelief, like a bad joke or lucid dream.  I started to panic and became almost animated when I attempted to talk him back into his pants.  He looked over at me, "no one even looks through the windows".  I burst out laughing because that is hardly the point and I don't have a clue on how to handle this and I can't jump out because my lap top is in the back seat which means leaning over him to get it...and I am not going to lean over him.  We hit free flow traffic and I was completely beside myself with anger, and maybe one day I would look back and laugh but that was not today.  We pulled up to my stop and I jumped out and opened the back door to get my computer...wtf just happened?  I didn't even thank him for lunch or the ride, I just turned towards the water on 12th and kept walking...