The incomparable Masala Skeptic was the guest of (dis)honor at a Skeptics in the Pub in Boulder, CO on Friday night.
I asked her to pass on a kiss to my boyfriend, Denver local Matthew Baxter.
Here is the ensuing kiss… I was assured there was no tongue.
I was so mock mortified when the image graced Twitter that I emailed Masala, instructing her to now give Matthew a hearty punch for his insolence!
She achieved this with even more glee than the kiss!
This made me wonder, have you guys ever been kissed, fondled, etc. by a stranger in public?
Or have you ever been punched or slapped in public?
What’s the story?
The Afternoon Inquisition (or AI) is a question posed to you, the Skepchick community. Look for it to appear daily at 3pm ET.
One time my life drawing professor unbuttoned my shirt in a gay bar. He was pissed, so I let it pass.
No.
A guy made a gropey pass at me once at band camp. I don’t remember being particularly troubled by it. I just thought it was odd at the time that someone of either sex would find me desirable.
Something about my personality and sense of humor makes me a constant recipient of playful slaps. I have been slapped by waiters, waitresses, hosts, and even a sommelier once. I love it, but not nearly as much as my wife does.
I was once randomly kissed by a girl in a club. I didn’t inflate my ego much at all. About fifteen seconds later, a random guy showed up and gave me the macho ‘wanna fight about this’ look. I figured he was her boyfriend or something, so beat a hasty retreat.
Once of my mates (who was cackling to himself at the time) had seen the whole thing from a distance. He told me that the girl had been flirting with the random guy for a while, but hadn’t been getting much of a response out of him. She was using me to make him jealous enough to get a response out of him – she never had any interest in me at all.
:(
I have been wearing a particular necklace since I was about 15. It’s tight to my throat and doubled up. About 10 years ago, riding the subway during the early morning rush-hour a girl that was standing behind me gently slipped her finger between my neck and the necklace. I had my headphones on and was startled. I looked back at her and she smiled and asked me where I got the necklace. I told her (longish story) and got off at my stop and that was that. Weird thing to happen on the subway at 6:30 am (sober).
About 15 years ago, I was in Tower Records near NYU. I was about to head up the stairs to the classical area when suddenly I felt someone lick the back of my neck. I turned around to see a tall guy about my age I’d never seen before.
Without looking the least bit surprised he said “Sorry, thought you were someone else,” and walked off. I was too gobsmacked to reply.
A couple of years ago at a horror convention I had my nipples licked in the hallway outside of my room.
I was at a concert sometime mid 80’s. The opening act was the Pandoras. After their set, they walked through the crowd fondling guys crotches. Dragging some out back with them. When I got an invite, I pointed out my date and the Pandora wndered off.
My first kiss was at a dance, when I was 16, by a random guy I’d been dancing with for all of five minutes. I was pretty pleased about getting my first kiss… less pleased about being sick with the flu (or possibly cooties) for the following two weeks.
I was once fondled and punched in the same night. I was in in a bar with some friends and this very cute, really drunk girl walked up and started rubbing my freshley shaven head. While she stood there incoherently rammbling, her boyfriend walked up and punched me in the face.
During my career in non-profit I was obliged it attend many cocktail parties with our donors. I was, for the most part, the only young man at these affairs. I lost count of the number of little old society ladies that groped me. I had to work out ways of holding a pleasant conversation while staying just out of range.
For those of you in other fields, the arts run on old women whose husbands worked themselves to death at an early age so they could leave lots of money to their wives when they died.
I once (accidentally) put my arm around a stranger in a bookstore.
He was the same build as my boyfriend. When he said “excuse me?” and stepped away, I thought it was just the boyfriend being a pain. So I, uh, put my arm around him again.
He said “No, really, excuse me?” and I looked at him and….that’s when I realized he was not my boyfriend but a complete stranger.
I was uh……….distracted by all the books? I dunno, but he and my actual boyfriend laughed their heads off.
Shit. Karen, does this mean that not only do I owe you a smooch, but you get to punch me in the face too?
Next time Masala leaves town without me, I am getting a frakkin’ waiver.
I’ve kissed strangers who have then become friends and kissed friends who have then become strangers. The former is better :)
Uh, no. Can’t say I have.
One time I was waiting at a bus stop, when this man came up and started touching me, and putting his arms around me, and was generally groping me. It was SO RANDOM and completely unexpected, I just froze, until he went for a boob–and I slapped him.
Thankfully the bus came, otherwise I’m not sure what I would have done (I was about ready to take his balls off).
I’ve had other guys attempt to do similar, but my Evil Glare generally gets them to back away pretty quickly.
I lived in the Middle East for a time. I’ve been groped. Let’s leave it at that.
I’m curious if Karen made the title of this blog an INTENTIONAL “Mad About You” reference or not. :-)
To answer your question though, the best I can say is that while at a bar at the Jersey Shore (actually it was Bamboo now that I think of it) I got caught in a traffic jam with some other chick who used the opportunity to feel my tits. I fortunately had the foresight to “tense up” immediately beforehand… though the end result was still the same… she went home with The Situation.
My mum and I had visited Brighton for the day on my birthday on one of our trips to England. On a bus back to the train station to go back to London, a group of about 5 or 6 of drunk business men in fancy suits came on the bus, singing oldies songs (Sweet Caroline was a favorite) remarkably on-key, considering how clearly smashed they were already at 6:30pm in the evening. My mum thought it’d be fun to tell them it was my birthday. They cheered and insisted on singing Happy Birthday to me and then took requests for other songs I wanted to hear. I asked for Fixing a Hole (it had been stuck in my head). When we got off the bus at the train station they invited me and my mum to go the pub with them but, alas, we had to go catch our train. They gave us hugs and one of them gave me a birthday kiss.
Me, mum, and part of the group:
http://tinyurl.com/y9b2bfg
Me getting a kiss:
http://tinyurl.com/yeka8vd
Ok, here goes…
Years ago, there was a nightclub that advertised anyone in a skirt drinks free on Thursday nights. Of course, my buds and I went in skirts. Well, they wore kilts, the pansies. I borrowed my sis’s black leather mini…
Well, I have been underwear-free for years, ever since leaving the military (those who have served will know freeballers don’t much exist IN the military), and thought nothing of wearing any for this skirt night.
Needless to say, hindsight being 20/20 and all, not remembering about the 2nd level of said bar… etc. etc.
It was as I descended from the 2nd level bar, down the stairs, that I was groped(by a lady, thankfully(not that there’s anything wrong with dood loving doods)). For the first time in my life, I had nothing to say.
I did, however, buy some underwear shortly thereafter for Thursday night skirt duty.
Its really a shame the club does not exist anymore, had many a fun night there…
Oh, and I did get a number and a G/F out of the deal, if only for a few weeks…
Once, I was kissed by a stranger, but I was too drunk to remember why she kissed me.
The only time I was hit in public by a stranger, I don’t think counts. I was trying to see the Obama inauguration, but I got stuck on by the Portrait gallery. I got there at 4:00am and spent the next eight hours in a crowd so dense there was no room to move, literately. I ended up getting turned around and I was facing away from the front of the crowd, but I couldn’t turn around. Then this 50 year old short lady starts shoving me and yelling that she has to get to the starbucks across the street. It was only about 25 feet away, but there was at least 200 people between her and the starbucks. She almost knocks me over, since I can’t move me feet to balance. Luckly, another friend was able to move enough that I was able to spin sort of out of her way. She got halfway behind me, when she punched me in the back, and screamed that “I f*cked up her jacket.” I would have doing anything for a black marker at that moment. For the next 15 minutes, we could hear her swearing at people, and although we couldn’t see her, we saw the people she was pushing. The best moment of the day, happened fifteen minutes later, when there was a cheer from the crowd. The lady only made it another fifteen feet closer to Starbucks, and fell or was pushed. She wasn’t hurt, but her jacket got dirty.
Nautilove
My mother tells a story that took place in a train station when I was about two or three years old and I was standing on a long bench in the waiting room next to her. There was a sad looking unshaven old man at the other end of the long bench. I apparently decided that the old man needed some cheering up so I ran down the bench gave the guy a hug and a kiss on the cheek and ran back down the bench to my mother. Mom says I put a smile on the old guys face but I have no memory of the incident and nothing remotely like this has happened again as best as I can recall.
I’ve had people grab my ass in crowded bars and in high school during class change when the halls were really crowded. I had a woman sit down in my lap at a Hooters in Virginia the night before I shipped out to Kuwait. I’ve had a couple random pecks on the cheek. And I have been in 10 or 12 fist fights in my life. None lasted as long as a minute.
A fairly drunk girl detached from her group of friends to dash across the street and kiss me briefly on the lips while I was on the way back from a comedy show one night. I was just taking out one of my iPod’s earbuds and assuming she was about to ask for a cigarette or something. She ran off again straight away; it didn’t seem worth pursuing. Best I can do.
There doesn’t seem to have been much discussion yet about the factor of whether the contact was explicitly invited. My brother was at a devmeet (gathering of deviantArt users) in London recently and was part of a crowd holding up “Free Hugs!” signs, which got a fairly good response from the total strangers walking past.
I’ve had my ass slapped while dancing on a bar, but I was dancing on top of the bar so I just went with it. It was probably a tempting target.
Okay, I’m late to the game on this one, but I have the BEST (in that it was thoroughly creepy but equally impotent) story of inappropriate touching in public…
So, I arrive at the bus stop with a coworker to head home for the day. As we chat, a drunk, gravelly voice says “Hey, what timessss it?” It had come from an equally drunk and gravelly man, maybe 60, possibly homeless. He offered to let my coworker remove his shirt, but soon my coworker’s bus arrived, leaving a fine place for this man, who announces he’s called “Dennis” to sit next to me on the bench.
Dennis proceeds to compliment me on my stunning physique: “Yr a rilllly good looking guy. Wrrrd you git alll them freckles?”
ME: “Uh, I just have them.” I try to focus on some ‘important’ text messages.
DENNIS: “Hey, you got rillly pretty eyes. Anyone told you that beffffore?”
It’s about this time that Dennis reaches over and starts running his hand up and down my forearm.
I pulled my hand away and rolled my eyes at him. I didn’t get up and leave though — in part, I’ll admit, because I knew it’d make for a good story later.
Dennis repeats himself: “Yr a really good lookin’ guy… Haaay… You got a girl at home?”
ME: “Yep.” Short, terse words were the rule at this point.
DENNIS: “Ohhhhh, shessa lucky girl. You got such purdy eyes. Hey, I’VE BEEN DRINKING GIN ALL DAY LONG!”
ME: “Yep. I can tell.”
I’d inadvertently put my arm back in reach of Dennis, and he again reaches out to run his hand up and down my arm.
I again pull away, and it is at this time that Dennis says the most perplexing thing I have EVER heard:
“Heyyy, you wan come back to my apartment and have a beer? I have a homeless guy there right now.”
Uhhh, what? He had a homeless guy there? What, just chilling on the couch, or chopped up into little bits in the freezer? Why did he think THIS would be the clincher: “Oh a homeless guy? Great! Why didn’t you say so!”
Luckily, at this point, the bus arrived and I has glad to see he didn’t join me.
Great stories everyone! :)
@FFFearlesss I wasn’t actually aware this was a Mad About You reference. I always knew I’d be great at writing comedy!
@phlebas Yes, sorry.
I assume it doesn’t count that in France, people you’ve just met want to kiss your cheeks and you are considered incredibly rude if you try to get out of the way. I adjusted but it was still fuckin’ weird, man.
At a hardcore show once, a guy staggered out of the moshpit and kissed my friend Dylan, then staggered in. He was dumbfounded; my girlfriends and I all cheered.
Walking down a quite cobblestone street in London one day, and this 10 year old kid walking towards me reaches out, grabs my breast, grins and then keeps on walking. I was completely stunned by his audacity, but turned and yelled “You little shit” at him once it sank in that he really had just done what I thought he’d done. That was 10 years ago, so wonder if the little shit is now a rapist….