Last night, when I found a seat on the train I felt so fortunate until you sat down next to me. That's when your male version of a woman's pocket book started rubbing up against me for potentially the remainder of my ride. Maybe I should describe your bag so you know who you are. The strap of your bag was slung across your shoulder while the pouch sat on your right hip. Why do you have a bag like that anyway?
And why couldn't you pick up on the fact that I wanted you to move it? I wiggled around in my seat so much that everyone else in the train was looking at me funny. Didn't you know that I wanted you to move your bag? Couldn't you read my passive aggressive behavior or did you willingly choose to ignore it? I think you willingly chose to ignore it because that's the kind guy of you are.
I hope you weren't offended when I moved to another seat as soon as one became available. You sure did notice. As a matter of fact, I saw you shift in your seat as soon as I left. That would indicate to me that you understood that the crooked way you were sitting was indeed uncomfortable and if that's the case, WHY DIDN'T YOU MOVE WHEN A SEAT BECAME AVAILABLE?
You caused in me the most hateful feeling. And the sad part is that if I had said anything about your bag sitting inconveniently on my hip as well as yours, I would have appeared to be the individual with a problem. Not you. You would have sat back and resumed your role of the victim never understanding why the people around you are always so upset and uncomfortable.
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