Client on the Subway

     I’m sorry to do this to my eight readers, I truly am, but….I just saw this on Twitter and I had to share.  If I have to see it, everyone has to see it:

       See that, my friends….?   That is a client.   Not a typical client (thank God, because if he was, there would be no prodommes), but a client of fairly common variety.   Just off the top of my head, I can think of at least four men who would be interchangeable with this fine fellow here.  Over the years, I have probably sessioned with at least a dozen.  Maybe 20. 

        The good news is that they are not evil or dangerous and they seldom make trouble.  They are not like, say, Chopin.  They never damaged me emotionally.  They are just really, really weird.  The hardest part of the session is just enduring their profound weirdness, which is exacerbated by the fact that they do not seem to know or care how they present to the people around them.   They are notable for their complete lack of shame.  Their filters are all fucked up…if they have filters at all, which a lot of them don’t.  Filters do not come standard on this make and model of client. 

       This guy is probably getting himself all worked up en route to the dungeon.  He’ll look more normal on his way home, after the tension is off, but right now, he’s in la-la land.

       It’s a living.  It’s a living, folks.  

       And look.  He’s even got a bag at his feet.  What’s in that Duane Reade bag, big guy?

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