Sometimes I just have to put rude people in their place.
Last night on my way home on the red line, the train was packed and I was standing, holding onto one of the infested poles to steady myself. At JFK a woman squoze on next to me and proceeded to place her hand on the pole about 5 inches above mine, and letting her full plastic grocery bag that was dangling from her wrist knock my hand completely off the pole. I looked at her and said, "why thank you, am I still in your way?" No response from her. I grabbed onto the pole above her and dangled my bag in her face. She didn't seem to mind.
Seven minutes later we got to the N. Quincy station and as the doors closed and we departed the station, the small filthy man who had been sitting in front of me stood up and I think said, "excuse me". I replied with, "can't you wait until the train stops? there's nowhere to move." He didn't even look at or acknowledge me and likely didnt speak English anyway, so he just stood there with his filthy self right in my face. I should have just let loose and really yelled at him since it appeared he had no idea what I was saying anyway. I didn't budge an inch for him. 2 minutes later we arrive at Wollaston and boy is he anxious to make sure he gets off the train. Naturally, in a huff, I whip my bag into him and block him as I very slowly made my way off the train.
Don't mess with me, people.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
I need a shower
I wanted to get to work early today but the MBTA Red Line had other plans for me.
On a good day it takes me about 40 minutes door-to-door to get to my office. Today it took 75 minutes due to signal/switch problems up at Charles MGH.
Of course this happens on a day when I don't have my phone charged so I couldn't listen to music to drown out the incessant commentary and complaints about the situation, or take pictures of the sweaty back that kept rubbing against me or the armpit (heavily doused with cologne, thank goodness) that was in my face.
Pictures can't capture the warm breath of the tall man standing next to me, huffing and puffing and mumbling about the situation, but I will not forget the sensation and inclination to vomit that I felt each time he breathed on my face. I had nowhere to turn, no protection, so I lifted my Metro to my face and held it against my forehead for a little while.
It would be so much better if, during these delays, the train would stop at each station quickly instead of "standing by" with the doors open so more and more rude jerks can squeeze on and rub their nasty skin, sweaty clothes and dirty bags all over me.
I wish my office had showers in the ladies room.
On a good day it takes me about 40 minutes door-to-door to get to my office. Today it took 75 minutes due to signal/switch problems up at Charles MGH.
Of course this happens on a day when I don't have my phone charged so I couldn't listen to music to drown out the incessant commentary and complaints about the situation, or take pictures of the sweaty back that kept rubbing against me or the armpit (heavily doused with cologne, thank goodness) that was in my face.
Pictures can't capture the warm breath of the tall man standing next to me, huffing and puffing and mumbling about the situation, but I will not forget the sensation and inclination to vomit that I felt each time he breathed on my face. I had nowhere to turn, no protection, so I lifted my Metro to my face and held it against my forehead for a little while.
It would be so much better if, during these delays, the train would stop at each station quickly instead of "standing by" with the doors open so more and more rude jerks can squeeze on and rub their nasty skin, sweaty clothes and dirty bags all over me.
I wish my office had showers in the ladies room.
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