Afoot.

I know it is rude to stare. I get this. And I very much appreciate someone taking care of themselves. I must say, however, choosing to stay in your skin-tight work out pants and stand at the front of the train facing everyone is making it difficult to stay the gentleman. Why?

Oh my god your cameltoe is gigantic. It like two lipstick tubes shoved down your pants. Like an evil face trying to push through a wall of latex in a horror film. You could hold a pencil and sign something. It deserves a celebratory fist-bump.

Not sure if it is intentional or not, but I encourage a mirror check. Gah! I keep looking up as if your crotch has become a commuter muse.

I am sorry for staring. Thank you.