Rule #1: Respect the imprints

Jeff and I have had numerous conversations in the past few weeks about the subway and commuting to work. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Jeff: It feels like I'm in a cattle car every morning, there's no space and I'm pressed up against strangers.
Me: I don't really notice, I put my headphones in and imagine that I'm in my own personal space.
Jeff: There's no reason to be crammed into small cars and the subway should run more cars more frequently!
Me: Yeah, well it's better than driving. It's not so bad. I can always find a seat after Times Square anyways. Plus there's such thing as a comfortable tightness on the train. It's going to be tight, but you just have to realize that sitting or standing shoulder to shoulder isn't that big of a deal.
Jeff: Hmph. I want my own space. I don't want to feel like an animal for no reason.

Or something to that effect...

So the other day I was going to work, and I'm in training so we start every day at 8:30. This is later than I usually go in, and happens to be the worst commuting time of the morning (or so it seems from my little experience). I leave the apartment at 7:45 and am therefore catching the train between 7:50 and 7:55 (depending on what shoes I'm wearing and how fast I walk to the station), which should normally get me to work by 8:15/8:20 (yes, I'm the big loser that gets to training early -- but there's free breakfast and all the good bagels will be gone quickly).

Being the worst time of the morning to try and catch a train I had to let one train go by because I simply could not get on the train, literally, the doors closed on one guy's coat...nothing else would have fit on that train. Typically though, when a train is that packed there is another one following close behind that usually has fewer people. That was the case on this fine morning. So I get on the next train, and got a seat at Times Square.

So I sit down and open my paper (always the joyous reward for being able to sit is that I can also read the paper). I was feeling most happy because I was on the lesser packed train, had a seat, and could read my paper. Even better was the fact that it was one of the trains with the seat imprints, so it's obvious where the seats are (as opposed to one big long bench). PLUS, the seat on my left was open because the guy two seats down was sitting such that his leg was hanging on the seat next to me. That meant that only an adventurous subway rider would take the seat next to me. I may have even had a smile on my face I was so pleased with my situation. Aah, how quickly the tables turn.

So we head to 34th street and on comes the aforementioned adventurous subway rider. So this particular subway rider would not have normally fit in the space allotted as a "seat" on the subway, and certainly not fit when the guy had his leg hanging over. So, what the adventurous rider does is proceed to sit on me. No, not on my lap, but essentially on my left leg. This prohibited my paper reading as my elbows were now pressed into my rib cage.

Now, as shown through my previous conversations with Jeff, I'd say I have a pretty high tolerance for loss of personal space on the subway, but when someone sits on me? That is where I draw the line. But I couldn't really get up and I didn't really want to either, I was there first. So I rode the next 4 stops with adventurous on top of me and I had to kind of shimmy out of my seat (well, not really, but it was weird getting up).

I am not judging, and adventurous rider probably needed the seat more than I did, and I probably should have gotten up (I usually do), but that's when I decided: Rule #1 on the subway: Respect the (seat) imprints and Rule #2: KNOW YOUR (size) LIMIT! If you don't respect the limits, I am not going to cede my space. If you're not going to fit in a seat without sitting on top of someone else, you're just going to have to wait. Please don't punish the innocent on the bottom of the pile.