If a woman you love rides a bike (a rarity of rarities) or you are yourself a woman who happens to read this blog (even greater rarity of rarities), be careful. A man armed with only a bicycle and loose fitting pants is terrorizing Arlington County with the sight of his raw, mid-January-cold-shriveled genitals. Detectives are actively tracking down this pedaling pervert touting what are, in his mind at least, inspirational chamois-fillers.
I applaud said flasher on his vehicular choice. If you're determined to flash, nothing beats a bicycle for ease of crotch unveilance and rapid getaway. Slow enough to show the junk, fast enough to evade the fuzz. Let it be agreed that said flasher is either a novice cyclist who wears easily dropped shorts or an advanced cyclist who takes great pride in flying by at thirty miles an hour, pedalling in a fury while in full micteration.
But back to flashing itself and the perp's motivation. I've always doubted the wisdom of flashing. Without doubt, flashing has the reputation of repelling more than attracting.
Yet, as as recent craigslist posting suggests, this is not always the case.
You flashed me at Panera - w4m Silver Spring
You flashed me at Panera on Friday morning while I was enjoying an egg souffle. It was too quick for me to get a good look, though. How about lunch?
I have a hard time picturing how this went down in the midst of Panera while craigslister enjoyed egg souffle. What unspoken signals must have passed between the two for flasher to determine that, yes, dropped trou would woo the souffle eater? Or maybe it was an accidental flash? And...zip, zip, and...[pause between spoonfulls of enjoyable souffle]...interesting...
Hard to say.
Flashing, in the end, is about mystery, I suppose. The split second shot of something absolutely repulsive that inspires revulsion and apparently curiosity, over souffle at Panera.