The other night, my roommate and I were lugging cases of beer from my car, parked in our apartment complex’s garage, to our apartment. Sometime around the second trip, we caught a glimpse of a guy sitting in one of the parked cars. Strike that, he wasn’t sitting, he was reclining. Oh wait, strike that, too, because actually, he was getting a full-on blow job, right there in the front seat of his Corolla in the parking garage. I’ve heard of road head, and I can understand the dangerous appeal of getting your snake mouth-charmed in a moving vehicle, but, come on, garage head?? Is that like, you’re intrigued by danger, but you’re a teensy bit worried you might run off the road once you get hot and heavy, so you’re going to play it safe and just keep it in park? Or maybe you’re an exhibitionist and into doing it in public, but you’re not THAT into it, so you decide to half-ass it? Or you’re building up to getting a BJ in a more public forum - in which case, baby steps, I guess? Or you really just like the classy ambience of a silver 1992 Corolla that’s inside a dank garage? On a Sunday night? Is it that you have some kind of bizarre exhaust fetish? Maybe you find something oddly sensual about the creaky, labored opening and closing of our garage door, because you have a lot of issues with sex?

Or, and I know this is a stretch, is it possible that you are actually the soul of a car inhabiting a person, sort of like the movie Cars, but with more blow jobs, so the only place you are comfortable getting your balls licked is in a garage? Alternately, perhaps you are just too lazy to take the elevator up to your apartment. Regardless of this particular couple’s reasoning, there was only one thing I could do in this situation: hit the panic button on my key remote. When the alarm shattered the romantic silence of the garage, the people in the car flipped the fuck out. There were limbs flailing everywhere and a frantic attempt to pull up a zipper without getting it stuck on any choice flesh. Said attempt was probably unsuccessful, judging by the high-pitched scream. And I’m pretty sure someone hit their head against the gearshift. Now that’s how you have fun in the garage! What’s the most bizarre place you’ve ever gotten your dingle hopped (Little Mermaid reference…go with it)?

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