Lessons Learned on the Metro: Personal Space

I'm definitely the type of person who likes her personal space. I don't see the need for people to touch me for no reason. For example, if you're my friend and I see you every day, I do not want a hug from you every day. I just don't. I don't know why, but it seems unnecessary. I don't like people sitting to close to me. I don't like people brushing up against me while cooking in the kitchen.

I like my space.

That's not to say I don't like hugs. I just don't want to hug everyone all the time. If I'm moving across the country, a hug is very appropriate.

Anywho. Public transportation makes personal space preferences fly out the window. Or metro car as it is.

Most days, I don't have a problem with personal space. I often have people bump me, and it's no big deal. However, recently, my personal space was invaded.

I tried to get onto the metro car, and it was unusually crowded. There was no space. I squeezed onto the car just barely and had no where to anchor myself other than the door that says "do not lean on door." So I did what a logical person might do - I put my arm around another passenger to anchor myself against a wall that would not be moving in 3 minutes.

That was undesired, but not the most uncomfortable part.

An older man, who by the way was hanging onto a pole quite stably, conveniently had his hand touching my butt.

Who does that?

Well, it was not ok, and I tried to move, but to no avail. He moved with me. (I'd like to clarify that he wasn't grabbing my butt, but rather touching with the back of his hand and he was carrying something in his hand, but it definitely made me uncomfortable).

Normally, I would have said something to put this old man in his place and to emphasize that getting groped on the metro was not on the agenda for the day. However, I figured it would be easier to just move when space became available at the main stop that people get off at than make an awkward scene in front of 50 people crammed into a tiny little space.

For example, when I was in high school, I went on a field trip somewhere, and a guy in my class was standing behind me in line to get on the bus and out of nowhere, he slapped my butt. I turned and exclaimed "excuse me!" And I made him apologize to me. (it was more dramatic than it sounds in writing)

I don't know why I let this thing on the metro go. But I did. At least it smelled better than the Beijing subway...

I'm still a fan of personal space, and I hope that my crowded metro experiences are few and far between, but I'll live another day.

Lessons Learned on the Metro

I think I'm going to start a series where I tell you about crazy stories that I overhear while riding the metro every day. I don't overhear interesting things every day, so it's going to be a bit sporadic, but take note, it's going to be fun.

Lesson #1: It's great to be single. Yes, for all you YSAs out there, single. Why you ask? Well because I can't tell you the last time I argued* with someone. Or picked a fight for no reason.

But the couple sitting behind me, they sure did. To set the stage, this couple is late twenty-somethings. Apparently the man had to wait fifteen minutes for the woman to get to the metro station, and he was just standing there waiting. Yes, FIFTEEN whole minutes. It was as serious hurricane Isaac destroying your house.

He had a lot to do today. Mow the lawn, go to the grocery store, and plan his birthday party for when his mom comes in to town on Friday. So many things that fifteen minutes was going to make the difference on.

After awhile they started arguing about how many people a certain size cake feeds. Apparently she thought 10-15, and he thought she couldn't know for sure. So naturally they argued about the thickness of the cake. For real.

This couple literally argued for the entire 25 minute ride until I got off the train. There was a point where I thought there would be some silence when the woman said "don't talk to me right now" at least 8 times, but he just kept talking. And saying, if the roles were reversed, you'd be so mad.

I understand that when you're parents come to visit, it's stressful. And it might actually take him 2 hours to mow the lawn. That might be really time consuming. But 15 minutes... Seriously? To my future spouse, if I ever get that stressed out over fifteen minutes, please tell me I'm being ridiculous and show me this blog post.  But for now, I'm happy to be single.

*For my profession, I often "argue," but I think you get what I mean from the story.