Between a Rock and a Fat Man

One day last week, Wednesday I think it was, Stinky T and I grabbed a seat on a homebound train at our usual time. That day, however, the train did not move. The train suffered from what GO Transit likes to call "equipment problems" and everyone on board had to detrain and force their way onto the next train, which was already full.

After a brief period of standing on the next train, we decided to get off and wait for yet one more train so we could grab a seat for the long ride home. The train arrived at Union Station as the previous train was leaving so we joined the herd and jumped on, grabbing a random seat on the upper tier. For those who have never been on a GO train (I am so envious of you), the seats are grouped in fours and are not identically spaced; in other words, some foursomes have more legroom between them. The foursome we grabbed this day had almost no legroom in between. I would say there was less than an inch between my shins and the seat facing me.

I quickly noticed the tight spot we were in and pointed it out to Stinky T but unsuspecting any issues with the tight space, we got comfortable (or as comfortable as one can get on the rock hard seats). The train began slowly filling up and before long I knew someone was going to join our foursome. Since there was next to no legroom, I did not expect anyone too big to sit in front of me but that was not the case at all. I don't even know why I expect people with at least a little intelligence to actually use the train because, other than Stinky T, I doubt anyone has an I.Q greater than a grade schooler does.

Instead of a toothpick grabbing the seat in front of me, I sat there and watched as a man as wide as he was tall decides to cram his tree stump legs into the almost non-existent space. This in itself is not too bad as this type of thing happens frequently to me although most times the person has enough sense to try not to invade my space even though it is usually an impossible task. When this thing first sat down it also made a feeble attempt to follow this practice, that is until someone wanted to occupy the seat beside me. With a past lesson learned, I knew I was going to lose all my leg room if I were to totally move to allow this lady in so I had to keep my one leg pretty much where it was. History did repeat itself this time too. Instead of allowing me to return to the position I was in before, one which seemed fine with this thing seconds before, he quickly swung his legs in basically preventing me from any possible comfort. Instead of giving in to temptation and risking my fist becoming a snack, I got up and found another seat, one that had a plethora of room, which the thing could have easily enjoyed had he not been too lazy to take another dozen steps.

As it turns out, I must have a sign on me somewhere, in some invisible ink only visible to those ignorant people who seem to think my body is a perfect place to test the strength of their purses or bags because once again this morning some biatch tried to force her bag into a spot it didn't fit. After scraping it down my leg and then smashing my leg with it a few times, it finally got under her seat. Then came the newspaper. If I didn't have calluses on my thumb I would have received several paper cuts. Once we arrived at Union station, she repeated the episode with her bag only in reverse and more violently, leaving the newspaper she was reading wherever it happened to land. On the other hand, maybe she left it there to keep her violated coffee cup company for the day. It is too bad there is not about a dozen recycling bins on every platform or she I am sure she would have used one.