Just as a disclaimer, this is not intended to offend anyone. Also, if you feel the need to have witty remarks or incompetent, derogatory comments where you feel the need to make some dumbass sexual comment or simply feel happy to use the work fuck, that's fine too. Pass them along. The ones I find funny, I will applaud. The ones I find lame, I will ignore. Anyway, on with the story...
Imagine this image from the other day...
I get onto the red line at Downtown Crossing on my way home (to the Andrew stop). It was an Ashmont train, which may be irrelevant, but I think this may have increased my chances of what I am about to tell you... Anyway, there were a few empty seats and I thought to myself, "You know, I never get a seat on the T. Today is my lucky day." So, with that thought in mind, I hunkered down in of the closest things the T has to a bucket seat.
As I sat down I was immediately squashed by one broad shouldered guy, (basically the same type who needs to have both arm rests in the movie theatre) and one other unclean, germ ridden fellow who simply wanted to take up as much space as he possibly could. Therefore, I was pushed forward, in the similar position that an individual makes when they are so drunk they feel like they will get sick on the T. As my elbows were on my knees and with my head bowed, I wondered why I sat down in the first place. I still had a chance to get up, but dammit, I NEVER get a seat on the T!
So there we were, the Thursday evening Ashmont train rolling towards South Station with me squeezed in the middle of two individuals, feeling like the cream center in that chips ahoy sandwich cookie commercial. Who cares if I was uncomfortable, I had my seat dammit! Make the lady in the cast and the granny with the walker stand. They ALWAYS get the seats. This was my day! Nothing was going to rain on my parade...
...until we pulled into South Station.
So the train pulls into South Station, and naturally, all the attractive young professionals opt to skip the Ashmont train for a Braintree one. Why do I care? I have my seat. I am riding in style between two of the longest stretches on the Red Line (aside from JFK), South Station to Broadway and then Broadway to Andrew. The doors open, and the masses run towards the train. I am cramped, but feeling smug about my seat, looking up at everyone starting to pack the train. And then she came towards me. This approximately 250-300lb. lady who stands directly in front of me. She was so close, I felt like I was violating her as I had to sit leaned forward between the football player and the leper. Of course she had to stand as close as me as possible. Too close. So close that it wasn't only the stench of the guy sitting next to me that was making me nauseated.
You may ask yourself, "what gets worse than having someone ass literally inches from your face?"
Try her facing TOWARD me...no, it wasn't her ass in my face. I was face to face with something else. All 300lbs. of pure woman straining against the confines of jeans that should on someone at least 1/4 of her size. So I think to myself, "why didn't I get up at Downtown Crossing?"
There I was, staring...well, I would rather stare death in the face than than what was in front of me, fearing that the zipper and button on the jeans would pop simultaneously causing me more discomfort and torture than I was already in...until I realized.
The zipper wouldn't pop open. It was unzipped. Yes folks, I was face to face with a 300lb of pure woman (with a pungant odor comparable to the guy next to me) with her fly unzipped basically pressed to my nose.
And THEN the train started to move to Broadway. Naturally, it was one of those T rides where the train comes to a screeching halt every 15 feet because the train conductor probably doesn't have his/her driver's license, but drives a train for a living. Of course with each jolting halt I have this fear that the woman will loser her balance. God couldn't be THIS cruel to someone...can He?
Well, luckily, He wasn't. (I think my chanting of "Weeble People wobble but they don't fall down!" helped out a lot.) However, he did want to keep me on my toes with the 15 minute T ride between South Station and Andrew (there was no way she was getting off before me). If I only stood up when I thought I should.
And that, is why you never sit in a seat on a crowded T.
For all of those at work, I hope you found this as an enlightening source of procrastination.