The nature of men on BART

For some reason, and only a man would know the answer to this one, men do not want to sit next to other men on BART. Without fail, if all the benches are filled up with a single rider, and most of those single riders are men, and a man gets on, well, that man will not for the life of him sit next to another man. This man will sit next to the first female he can find. Is it something about returning to the womb? Comfort? That's just nonsense because I'm a female, and I don't want a stinky, bumbly man sitting next to me. But alas, this is what happens almost daily.

The only thing I have going for myself is that my BART train in the morning is generally empty, and my BART train at night tends to be the same way. However, yesterday, for the first time in I don't know how long, it happened to me. My blood boiled, I tell you.

I had a lot on my mind that morning, and I was staring out the window at the gloomy sky. My book was on my lap, my iPod was plugged in, and besides my work and lunch bag, I was bringing a 30-pack of bear claws to work that morning as a "thank you" and "good bye" to my new and old team members in my dept.. So I was pretty much holed up in my window seat. I'm a true believer that no matter how many things you're bringing with you on BART, you shouldn't hog up a bench unless absolutely necessary. I was basically scrunched in, but doing well. Couldn't move my legs much, but it's not like you do much moving around while on BART.

So, there I was, staring out the window, and I saw this man outside walk to the door nearest me on my car. Oh no. NOOO. I'm holed in! I looked around, and there were men all over the place. And then there was me. I was hoping that since I was awake and not sleeping, this would deter the man from sitting next to me. He got on, did a quick scan of the seating situation, moved to go to the rear of the car (opposite of me), then changed his mind and headed in my direction. He paused at the bench in front of me, but of course, there was a man sitting there, so he moved on. He picked my bench.

Man, I'm holed in! Why me? That was all I could think. So not fair. There were all these open seats with more room, but he had to sit next to me. And he was tall and gangly. I either get tall, gangly men sitting next to me or HUGE, fat men sitting next to me. What does tall and gangly mean? First, tall, gangly men's legs don't fit comfortably in the leg space. Second, their elbows for some reason cannot be controlled, and they repeatedly poke into my arm. With this guy, I decided I was not moving my legs to accomodate his spider legs because he sat down next to me and he could have very well sat on the bench in front of me that had tons of open space for his stupid spider legs. And if his elbow even touched my arm, he was going to get a really good push from innocent little me. Luckily, this guy was okay in all respects -- he didn't cross the invisible boundary lines. And I only had the tunnel and 2 stops to get through. I could deal. Even though I was totally holed up and trapped.

So we got to Embarcadero and he doesn't get off. Great. I start making a big production about getting my stuff together, so that this man will understand that I will be getting off at the next stop, and that since half the people on the car have just gotten off, and since I'm HOLED up in my window seat because of my stuff and him, that maybe, just maybe, it would nice of him to move his spidery self to another bench. He wasn't making any motions like he even recognized that I was there and that I was moving around (earbuds out, work badge around neck & tucked into my jacket, earbuds back in and iPod moved to jacket pocket, Translink card removed from work bag pocket, grab all bags and get ready...). He just sat. And this made me so greatly mad that my blood boiled and my earbuds popped out of my ears, and I drop my Translink card, which means I let go of my bags. I put my earbuds back in my ears, which then got stuck on something and popped out again; I was ready to blow. And he was still sitting there. And I was still holed up but now I was really mad and flustered. I don't do well when I'm mad and flustered.

When I'm mad and flustered, that's when I can't get my earbuds to stay in place and I drop my Translink card and it's just a messy scene, I'll tell you. If I was walking, I would have already tripped. I basically looked like a loony bag lady who couldn't get her crap together while spiderman was casually sitting there, trapping me.

I almost stood up (although this was probably not likely in my current condition -- more like hunching over the bench in front of me) and dumped my stuff in the bench in front of me so that this guy who for some reason thinks I'm 90 lbs and have nothing with me would get that I do exist and would like him to move his spider butt and give me some space. But I didn't do that. I sat there like a loaded spring, ready to jump up with all my stuff and run off the train. He waited until the last minute as we were pulling into Montgomery and then stood up and moved to the door.

I was still fighting with my earbuds and my bags and a lady sitting on the handicap bench was staring at me while Spidy was casually standing at the doors, waiting for them to open....

All because I'm a female, and men hate sitting next to each other.