“Turn her around so we can see her face when you do that,” shouts a young man to Dov, a middle aged six-foot-plus man with long curly hair and black leather Frye boots. The boots are currently being used to kick Gabriel—an attractive, young, recent NYU grad currently in bra and underwear—in the crotch from behind, as she is twisted uncomfortably around his arm, his big hands firmly gripping her thick black hair. I flinch at the sadistic request before remembering the nature of the demonstration.
