thanks for shoving your crotch in my face

I'm having one of those mornings. When my inner peace is continually disrupted by Outside Forces.

For example, today. On the train into downtown Manhattan I felt entirely peaceful. The walk to the station was pleasant, beautiful morning, children being well-behaved and cutely-dressed on the way to school. This is never a problem. Once on the train, I stood and began re-reading Forbidden Colors, by Mishima, and when a seat became available I took it.

However, immediately upon sitting, people invariably decide to stand in front of me. And I mean, really close in front of me. With their crotches at head level. They don't do the decency of standing sideways or at an angle, oh no. And invariably my discerning eye discerns other unpleasantness. Not to mention, unfortunately, my discerning nose. I try to bat their bodies aside politely with my book. I give them meaningful looks, especially to men in sweatpants who insist on jiggling and dancing whilst listening to their iPods (no, it's NOT attractive seeing whatever genitalia you've been blessed to possess doing the Hairy Mary in your sweats, guys.)

But then I get out of the subway and see the long and laboring lines struggling to get their sweat out onto the street... and I think, poor assholes. They've been trained to think this is normal, and the pay they get is something they've accepted as a fair compensation for this kind of treatment.

Then I think: well, I'm in pretty much the same position.

Then I think: it's going to be one of those days.

On another note, please do check out the Deaf Dogs Adoption Education Fund. Hat tip to the Sparkly Spanker who passed this my way.