Um, him. Wait, no, never mind. Ok, well, him, I guess

Last night, my friend and I played my recently most favorite game called “You have ten seconds, quick, pick a person you would sleep with.” The rules of the game are as follows: (ideally to be played on the L train as it is packed with hipsters, some who tend to be somewhat cute and most are fugly) your partner counts off to 10 during which you look around and pick a person with whom you would sleep. The trick is that you need to spend all 10 seconds looking for a person even if you spot someone attractive right away. You keep that person in reserve in case you find someone hotter and if by the end of 10 seconds you are unable to find anyone hotter, you can go back to your first choice. But in order to keep your first choice, you need to look at that person again. So if that person walked away and you cannot see him/her, you start freaking out, scrambling around to find him/her. The fun of the game increases proportionally to the amount of alcohol you had ingested previously.

We were returning from a rather overpriced bar in midtown therefore our route back to Williamsburg was to take the E or C to the L. Since the E and C pass through Chelsea, I was syched as I thought the train would be packed with hot gay boys. Unfortunately, it turns out that around 10pm, the E was marginally full of the ugliest men I’ve seen in my life. I am not sure if it was direction that we took or time of our travel but my choices consisted of either short Italian types or fat balding Queens types. It was horrible. I think I settled with some Euro looking dude who kept running his hand through his shoulder-length hair while he kept flashing his smile at the girl sitting next to him. My friend settled for a woman who, judging by the amount and color of the make-up that she was wearing, clearly was legally blind.

The L train platform brought me a little more luck, although it seemed that most of the riders from the E transferred to the L as well; fortunately, there was a somewhat good looking guy. He needed a little of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” action but overall, cute as a dickens. I spotted him right away but since I had another 8 seconds, I walked around the platform a bit. Unfortunately, Friday night at 10pm seems to be a bad time for spotting hotties so I went back to my original choice and looked at him again. The worst part was that every time I looked at him, he was looking at me so I must have looked like a psycho, running around a platform while saying: “ew, no. Oh, maybe him, oh wait, no. Definitely no.” My friend picked a girl who, at a closer look, turned out to be like 40. That really confused me because all of the sudden, I started to wonder what kind of girls he liked. I guess old ones. Anyways, we got tired of playing the game and proceeded to have a debate whether it is possible for a guy to get crabs in his beard if he goes down on a girl who has crabs. Any thoughts?