Best Line, Directed at Me, I’ve Heard on the Train

"I mean, I'm gonna charge you more if I'm gonna have to hold your dick."

Let me explain.

I'm on a train reading, minding my own business as usual. Somewhere in midtown, I look up and there's a guy looking at me. Relatively attractive with his unkempt goatee, his feet are resting on his skateboard and he appears unable to get out of his dead stare. Whatever.

I went back to my book. Then I hear, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question. I'm sorry." I look up and he goes to the edge of his seat. Pointing to my earrings, he asks "Are those 12 gauge?" "No," I replied. "They're 6s." "Really? They look like 12s." "No," I said. "The lower the number, the thicker the gauge." "Yeah, I know, I'm a piercer."

Then shouldn't you be able to determine the correct gauge of my earrings from five feet away? Idiot.

"I was just gonna suggest that you get 6s because they'd look good on you."

He then went on to tell me about his freelance piercing situation. He said that if I'd bring him five people, he'd pierce me for free. I nodded, not interested in the least in getting anything else pierced. As he got up and took the seat near me, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I did applaud his self-motivation, but obtaining the services of a drunk freelance piercer doesn't sound enticing.

He then went into his pricing, describing in great detail his discount prices compared to those of your standard piercing parlor, which tends to charge four times the price of the jewelry. He only charges two times, apparently. Unless he's doing the genitals, of course. Which brings me to the best line, directed at me, I've heard on the train.

"I mean, I'm gonna charge you more if I'm gonna have to hold your dick."
Despite this, I accepted a piece of paper with his name -- Kendrick, a.k.a. Pennywise -- and number, so that I may collect five people to go under his drunken gun.