Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Fun BART times tonight

Two of my least favorite things happened to me tonight. And before my mom starts thinking I "ran my mouth" to someone, I did not. I stated what I needed to state, and I let the situation take care of itself. With the other incident, I just gave up because I wasn't in the mood.

First thing:

I was standing in my usual line behind two men who were for the most part standing next to each other although in one line. How did I know this? Because I was directly behind one man, and the other man was just sort of milling around next to his friend in the center between the two lines. People do this all the time, and while I find this annoying, I don't let it get me down.

So there I was with my earbuds in and book in hand. Then, out of the blue, this lady walked from the escalators (my left) to the right side of me. I had a small gap in between me and the two men; more in case the one man in the center decided to stand in line for some reason than for anything else. He was technically in front of me, so who am I to close the gap and kick him out of line?

I eyeballed the lady to see what she was going to do. Some confused people will stand next to the line to figure out where they need to be and to decide which line they need to be in. She stood and then moved closer the guy in front of me. I looked around thinking, Am I invisible again? Do I not exist? Why is this happening yet again?

When I looked around, I noticed a man behind me, so I knew I was in line, and he was in line, and the guys in front of me were in line, so what the heck was she doing? So yet again, being sick and tired of people thinking they can do anything they want, I decided to say something. I learned my lesson from the last time, so I was only going to inform the lady that I was in line and then let it go. If she moves, dandy, if not, then I get to accidentally kick her.

"I was in line," I told her.

She looked at me and started stuttering her five million excuses for just getting in front of me like I wasn't there. When she hit on five million and two, which was "I thought you were in a different line," I had to set her straight.

"I'm in this line, the other line is over there," and I pointed to the line near the escalator.

"Oh! I thought you were starting a new line! Oh! I'm sorry! Oh!"

She walked to the other line and the guy behind me started saying stuff to her. I tuned that out because if I heard anything that was going to get my blood boiling, then there was going to be crazy white chick trouble. I did hear her state several more times that she thought I was starting my own line, and that I was curving the line, and this and that. Then she said she's from New York, and in New York, they don't believe in lines. Good to know. They don't really believe in lines in Boston either, but you know what? I adapted! Why fight the crowd? Which was what I really wanted to say to her since she just decided she was a New York frame of mind (thanks Billy) and was going to jump in front of me even though clearly there was someone behind me and in front of me.

And whatever happened to just politely inquiring if someone is in line or not? That would clear this mess up quickly.

So that was the first thing. Not too bad, but a bit annoying. Luckily she doesn't freely swear because I wasn't in the mood to be called an obscene woman again.

Now to the second thing.

The Fremont train was pretty busy, mostly due to holiday shoppers leaving SF. I had several people sit next to me and then get off. By the time we hit Bayfair, no one was next to me. In fact, the car was pretty empty.

So there I was, listening to my music and reading my book and minding my own business. The train pulled out of the station. I was near the connecting doors, so I saw from the corner of my eye someone walk into our car from the car behind us. Since there were so many empty seats, I felt pretty safe from being sat next to again.

I was wrong. I'm always wrong.

The man who walked into our car slid his gigantic 300+ lb plus body into the space between the seat in front of him and my bench, then slid is gigantic 300+ lb plus body downward. That's how our larger BART pals try to squeeze into smaller spaces.

I thought, no way. NO WAY. This cannot be happening to me. The car's almost empty. In fact, he could have sat in the seat in front of him, which would have been much more comfortable because it had no seat in front of it. Tons of room for his huge body to rest. But no. NOOO. Instead he decides that sitting next to small and apparently even more invisible girl was a better choice.

As soon as his big thigh pushed against my leg (which was tilting towards the wall of the car as it was -- giving more space than a normal sized person would need), I decided there was no way I was going to let this gigantic man do this to me. Right near us was an empty handicap bench, so as soon at the train stopped at Hayward, that was where I was going. That's where he should have sat, if I had my way.

As the train began to slow down, I grabbed my lunch bag and closed my book, which was his cue to get out of my way, I'm leaving. He unfolded his body from the seat and stood out of the way so I could get out. I walked to the completely free bench and sat down. Never once did I look at him. He moved into my seat (window seat).

What really killed me was that after South Hayward, he got up and went to the car behind us -- where he came from. Presumably to torment another small girl in that car. Or to get off. I don't know and I don't care. I ain't putting up with big man nonsense no more!!!

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