Tell All Your Friends: The 5 Stages Of Receiving A Surprise D*ck Pic

It’s an experience most women (sadly) understand very well.

You open up your phone, excited to see a new notification. Hold up, though. Don’t get too excited just yet.

That notification you think is going to be some thoughtful, personal message from a friend or maybe a close family member is totally a dick pic.

Yes, I’m talking about that strange phenomenon of the "surprise dick pic."

It’s the digital equivalent of flashing.

It's public indecency. It's illegal.

But, that doesn’t stop random dudes (sometimes literal strangers, acquaintances, new Tinder matches or classmates from that time you went to private school in the seventh grade) from whipping it out, striking the best possible pose and adjusting the light just so.

Sure, maybe it’s “art.”

Maybe it actually is a good-looking "subject."

But, women on the receiving end of these surprise pics still experience a strange mix of emotions after they get one of these masterpieces.

So prepare yourselves, and open up that Snapchat.

Stage 1: Shock And Denial

Silence.

What the hell was that?

No, that can’t be what I thought it was. I must have something penis-shaped in my eye, or maybe that was just a pop-up.

Hey, I even could have just hallucinated. I could definitely hallucinate without any warning or cause.

Let me just take one last quick look, just to make sure I really am losing my mind.

There’s no way.

Okay, that was exactly what I thought it was.

Stage 2: Anger

This guy thinks it’s okay to send me a random nude out of the blue?

Let me check back in our chat history.

I knew it. There’s nothing there.

Just like I thought.

I definitely didn’t ask him to send this.

Who the hell does this guy think he is? Does he think his penis — no, not even the real thing, a picture of his penis — is God’s gift to women?

If this guy ever shows up at my favorites bar again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

Oh, I’ll be livid.

He’ll sense my anger through the chat.

Stage 3: Bargaining

Please, I promise I won’t ever swipe right on Tinder again. I’ll delete the app and deactivate my account, even.

Yes, I promise.

No, I won’t immediately re-download it again.

I’ll be done with Tinder forever. Don’t you trust me?

I’ll do anything, just as long as I can unsee what I just opened on Snapchat.

I swear to God, I’ll do anything to get the image of this just-barely-average-sized peen out of my mind.

Stage 4: Depression

I guess it doesn’t really matter what I do.

Regardless of how I act, I keep getting sent these rando dick pics.

Why should I bother trying anymore?

It’s obviously useless to put myself out there. Every guy I meet only wants me to look at a pixilated, digital version of whatever’s hiding in his pants.

I should probably stop trying to find love, since apparently, love means “unimpressive nude” these days.

I’m just going to die sad and alone, surrounded by hundreds of cats.

I think I’m allergic to cats. This is terrible.

Stage 5: Acceptance

Well, I’m bored.

I guess I’ll just re-download Tinder again.