by 
A naked man is refusing to leave your field of vision until you acknowledge his magnificent plums.
Simon Williams, 34, has been keeping up a conversation with you in an otherwise empty gym changing room, while making no effort whatsoever to put any pants on.
“Yeah, just done a spin class,” said Williams, putting his foot up on the bench next to you and performing a hamstring stretch, his testicles mere inches from your horrified face.
“Oh, heh, sorry about that,” he said, looking down at his tackle but resolutely refusing to remove it from your eyeline.
“That’s the problem with these changing rooms, innit? No privacy,” said Williams, his voice echoing around the otherwise empty room.
Williams still hasn’t moved and you could swear he’s thrusting slightly.
“So who do you fancy for the 3:30 at Cheltenham?”
You reply that you’re not really into horse racing while trying to pack your holdall as quickly as possible, while also carrying out an internal debate about whether or not to simply punch this man in the gonads.
“Well, that’s a shame. Hey, you know what they say about horses,” said Williams, literally pointing at his genitals.
“LOOK. AT. THEM.”
