Wino-lympics! or: They’re Not All Gonna Be Picassos, Folks

I recently started a new day job, and across the street from my workplace, we have a wino. Although I have walked past him, he and I have not been formally introduced, so I will call him Stench. This is Stench.

Stench is there when I arrive in the morning. Stench is there every time I go outside for a cigarette. Stench is there when I go to and return from lunch, and Stench is there when I leave in the evening.

And every day, on at least one of the occasions when I go outside, Stench is there, standing up, facing the building, frantically masturbating against the wall.

And not just masturbating, but really cranking it, like he’s in a contest. Like he’s a stopwatch and a bullseye away from winning his life back; a life that includes hot meals, cold beers without cigarette butts floating in them, and women who are loose for reasons not involving wet leprosy. It’s like watching my own, personal Running Man, only with less Richard Dawson and more, well, jerking off.

Last night, after twelve straight workdays of seeing this, I set my cell phone to record video, charged the bitch up, and opened a YouTube account, because no benevolent god would bestow this horror upon me and expect me to suffer through it alone.

Today, I smoked a pack and a half of cigarettes at work so I could be on the sidewalk to record this spectacle for you… and the fucker didn’t whip it out once. It’s like Stench knew that if he gave in to his lust, he would be on the Internet, and Stench is nobody’s fool. Clearly he’s holding out for a basic cable deal.

I will remain vigilant, in order to eventually bring you this horrifying spectacle. But I wanted to share that I have learned two things from Stench. First: I learned that even the most liberal Bostonian will throw a mental rod when faced with the choice of walking down one side of the street to pass a masturbating wino, or the other side of the street to pass a chain smoker with a video phone muttering, “C’mon, Stench; you horny, unwashed derelict! Yank one out for me! Show that concrete bitch who wears the pants in your cardboard box!”

I also learned that “Masturbating Wino” is the Snakes On A Plane of gravestone epitaphs.

[tags]Winos, YouTube, Boston, masturbating, dark humor[/tags]