Travel Chronicles: Dudes Gonna Dude

Dude on train *asks me how to get to Penn Station*

I respond that I don’t know.

Dude sarcastically : You don’t know where you’re going?

Me patiently, following Rule 62 of what to do when dudes be duding: I know exactly where I’m going I don’t know how to help you get to where you’re going.

5-6 random femmes of all ages and nationalities *jump in to help him, Whip out phones, point to diagrams.*

Dude: I can’t take y’all seriously y’all don’t sound secure.

All of us femmes except one *glance over phones, smirk, sigh, roll our eyes, make eye contact that says Gurl, return to our bubbles*

The remaining femme, the one who seems to be most over his shit *continues to help him figure out his directions*

Dude *continues to be super whack.* Thanks his helper in a manner fitting of being a dude on a train with a huge ass suitcase.

Of course I have six different stories on the reason why he’s on the train with this huge ass suitcase in the first place. At least 2 being that some femme got sick of his Dudely ways.

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