I was on the subway today, completely engrossed in my book, when I heard a woman say “I’m just going to squeeze in.” I looked up and realized she was heading right at my lap. It was sooo weird. I mean, she didn’t actually end up on my lap, more like my leg.
If any of you are familiar with the numbered New York subway cars, the middle benches have bars that roughly separate them into 3 and 4 seater blocks. I was on one of the 3 seater sides, with two far from lithe people also on my side. I had been leaning all the way back into the bench so she was able to squish herself onto the edge, forcing a third of my butt behind the separator bar and requiring me to wrap one leg over the other.
When we reached the next stop and a number of people on the opposite bench got off the subway, she gave no indication of moving. So I poked her in the shoulder (she was engrossed in a conversation with her friend sitting across the way) because I literally was trapped behind her, having maybe 5 inches in front of me that weren’t blocked by either her body of the bar. She shot me a dirty look and with great disdain asked why I was bothering her. When I explained that she was essentially sitting on me and squishing me and that I would like to move to the wide open seats, she sighed and and shifted so I could get out.
I understand that NYC is crowded, but this was ridiculous. Worse yet, she only rode three stops before getting off.
I took a picture of this absurdity (or at least the bench once I had evacuated) to share here, with my husband, and really anyone else I could get to listen to me, but apparently my phone did not like it and it has disappeared.
And the rest of my ride, I was leaning forward, legs sprawled wide, staking on my share of the bench.