It’s incredible how many people out there think porn is for degenerates. Porn can be so many things—sensual, educational, empowering—but “wrong” isn’t one of them. I will not be shamed for liking porn, especially on the bus.
Those bus prudes are downright incapable of understanding that porn is just one or many people enjoying each other’s bodies as I enjoy, applaud, and sometimes (but not always) rub my nipples in celebration of their passion. It’s not an obsession or an addiction. You won’t ever find me watching porn on a bus for hours on end anymore. Bus porn is like having a small erotic snack to tide me over before the big decadent meal at home. If no one tells the passenger eating a tuna sandwich to stop because they’re stinking up the joint, then no one has the right to make me stop watching “milf_sex.avi” at full volume.
If the noise pollution is the problem, then let’s think of it this way: If it were episodes of Frasier that I wanted to watch out loud, would you make me turn it off just because you don’t like the witticisms of upper-crust Seattleites? No. You’d ignore it. So what’s the difference between Frasier and porn? Very little, especially if I’m watching the Frasier porn parody that’s been chopped up into 10 convenient, masturbation-friendly three-minute segments on a streaming porn site.
People have been enjoying pornography out in public for centuries. Archaeologists have found evidence of books filled with erotic imagery dating back to the early 1500s. I’m sure some guy was gawking at those books on a wagon traveling between villages, and everybody just dealt with it. No harm, no foul. Yet, centuries later, uptight passengers who wield the hammer of puritanical joy-killing are getting mad over a little full-penetration on public transportation. We’re moving backward, people! The historical flow of sex positivity suggests that buses should be orgies on wheels by now. Instead, it’s all uncomfortable silence. We’re not even supposed to look at each other, but even the most discreet porn-viewing is met with threats of revoking my bus pass.
I know what you’re thinking: Why can’t I wait until I get home? Well, if I’m being honest, it’s not that I get off on the porn itself as much as I get off on freedom of expression. My porn is freely available and lawful. There are technically no rules being broken, and no one is getting hurt. And no, your feelings don’t count. If you want to give me a nasty glare for exercising my constitutional right to watch people going to town on each other loud enough to hear it over the bus engine, you’d better be prepared for a freak-nasty stare back, because my eyes are in porn mode, and believe me, you don’t want to get caught in that tractor beam.
I guess I wouldn’t feel so persecuted if it weren’t for the hypocrisy. I see passengers’ eyes darting to and from my phone all the time. I can see the delight in their eyes fade away the second they realize joining me arm-in-arm on the moral high ground would make them a target of the anti-bus porn mob. Honestly, it’s hard to blame them. Unlike them, I don’t have a wife, kids, a job, or shame to protect. Martyrdom isn’t for everybody. It’s just a heavier load than they can bear, but I’ll bear it gladly. For freedom.
Images: Pixabay, Pixabay, Pixabay