Proximity

There I sat, about ten at night, headed towards Cambridge on the train for the first of many dance events that my dear friend Brandon is DJing.

I had an entire row of seats to myself and I was sitting at the second of five.

Now, there's sort of an unspoken rule on the T that one does not sit directly next to a stranger when there are more open seats in other places. This is naturally the exact rule that seems destined to be broken by the general population when I am concerned.

The train stopped, letting passengers on, and the only one to pass the front car chooses, naturally, the seat directly next to me.

To explain the mechanics... I've created a diagram.

_______---____M_____---_____S_____---____I_____---_________


I am, of course, "M", "S" is the stranger and "I" was his previously unmentioned bag of Indian food takeout. You'll notice that if he and his Indian food had switched, then he'd be next to the empty seat. Or that if he'd taken the seat on the end or the fourth seat, all three of us would have had more personal space.

Happily, sitting too close was as far as this particular interaction went, though I imagined that if he hadn't been on his cell phone all bets would have been off.

When he got up to leave I felt a little silly, thinking that this was really harmless and that perhaps I really do overact to these sorts of things. Therefore I was surprised (unsurprised, really) when the seat was immediately filled once again, and this time by a mass in a large poufy jacket whose body was actually touching the entire side of mine.

'Alright Universe, so this is how it's going to be,' I thought to the higher forces that govern, steeling myself for what appeared to be one of those nights.

My peripheral vision was sending alerts about the fact that my neighbor was not only resting against me but was also gazing at my face. I prepared myself for the strange conversation that was sure to follow and peeked to see the face of my antagonizer for the night only to be greeted by chubby cheeks, clear blue eyes set a little too close together, a head of curly blonde desperately in need of a cut and a familiar evil smirk.

'Oh, ok,' with a sigh of relief, 'you know that really wasn't very nice of you.'

The Enchanted Marble

Story to follow...

"Hello darlin'

"I'm looking for a girlfriend," he said in the red sox hat at the post office.

Sorry, I'm unavailable right now.