Train Traffic

One my biggest pet peeves is having someone in my personal space.  Living in NY and having to take the subway during rush hour each day, you can't really avoid someone rubbing up against your thigh, reading their newspaper inches from your face or my personal favorite, the purse/backpack on the head while sitting.   Prior to my pregnancy I was somewhat able to tolerate these small nuisances but lately, my patience has run dry.  Unfortunately, I was never tactful when dealing with these situations and the rage that fills me during these moments perhaps causes me to react somewhat irrationally.  I didn't really give this much thought until the other day when I ran into my friend Lana on the train.  We were both sitting down and chatting about how proud we are to be elite Yelpers when some guy walks in and without looking decides to rest his backpack millimeters (yes, it was so close that I have to use the metric system for emphasis) away from my head.  Like any normal person, I then proceeded to push (with both hands) his backpack as far away from me as possible.  I didn't realize I did anything unusual until I looked over and saw Lana's terrified face.  She scolded me and was visibly frustrated that I didn't learn anything from her Grand Jury stories (apparently some chick got her whole face cut up during a similar train altercation).   In my case, I was pretty sure the gentleman in question couldn't possibly do anything to me since both his hands were busy trying to hold up his pants.  Either way, I think I learned my lesson.   Well, I thought I did, until I had to jam my elbow into the rib cage of the lady sitting next to me trying to nap on my shoulder. 

Gene's corner: 

Gene has been reassigned and he is currently the top contributing editor to ihavebettershittodo.com