I walked into the bathroom, and―"Are you here for the blowjobs?"
This was startling. "What?"
"The blowjobs," the dude repeated. He was about 5'9, average looking guy. This was at UMass, so he was sporting the obligatory Boston Red Sox hat.
Now, this was about ten in the morning, so I wasn't going to be at the peak of my mental game, regardless of the info this guy was giving me, but I was pretty sure that I needed more to be able to figure out what he was talking about. "Blowjobs?" I queried.
"Yeah, I was just wondering if you were here for the blowjobs. If you look in stall three over there, someone has written 'Blowjobs: 10-11, M-W-F.'" I checked to see if this was true, and nodded back in his general direction to confirm that I had seen it to be so. "Well, that was me. I have an hour before my next class, so I hang around here seeing if anyone needs a blowjob or anything."
I considered this. I'd seen things like that written on the stalls before, but I never thought they were serious. I usually just assumed they were bullshit, written by the same kind of guys that write "KKK" on the wall with a knife, and then come back a month later to inspect their work, only to find that it now says "KKK SUCKS" and they need to make an amendment. "KKK SUCKS TITTIES" doesn't really have the same ring to it as the original, but I guess they make do. So, now that I've thought about this a good deal, it all kind of makes sense. These guys are just trying to make do with what they've got, and what they've got is a lot of free time in the bathroom. Anyway, I considered all this, and then replied.
He was kind of bummed. "Really? You sure? I mean, it's not the best blowjob you'll ever get, but it's got heart."
Again, I considered. "Well, still, I'm gonna have to stick with no."
"Alright, well, if you're ever in need of a blowjob on a Monday, Wednesday, or a Friday, from ten in the morning, 'til eleven, you know where I'll be. Tuesdays and Thursdays I've got class though."
"Thanks," I said, and finished peeing.