I enter a packed bus heading home from downtown Brooklyn. A dozen more people are jamming on. We all have bags and bulky coats. I try to squeeze my way through the people standing and see that not one, not two -- but FOUR different women have decided it's totally fine to sit on the outside of the two-seat bench seats.
Why? Is it that much of an inconvenience to just take the wall seat? Are they really getting off next, two stops from where the bus originated? People are looking, lusting after those empty seats, but no one's bothering the rude-ass ladies who are blocking them. Finally I can't take it anymore and go to the nearest one. "Can I sit there?" She's on her phone, but huffily complies.
I scoot next to the wall, and feel her trying to jam her big ass and marshmallowy down coat back into the bus' outer bucket seat. I know she's got at least half a cheek falling off as she keeps pressing into me. I feel happy that I'm not the one hanging off the edge of the seat -- super-satisfied that I'm sitting for my mile-long ride home that I know will arrive before this jerkstore's stop. I almost want to thank her for giving me the cushy inside seat.
But then, if I said anything it would erupt into a fight faster than her smacking her condescending mouth at me and what she would probably deem my white privilege.
This is what the women of Brooklyn are like when they're in self-entitlement mode. The bus is their primary domain, and anyone who tries to encroach on their space risks their wrath. They are quick with the rude comments and ugly attitude, seeming ever-ready to form a fist.
I do not understand it -- esp. why it's particularly acid on the buses that traverse the Fulton Street Mall -- yet it's the most consistent part of my commute. I do encounter such entitled women elsewhere in the city -- in fact once I bumped into one on a crowded downtown sidewalk at rush hour, and she responded "I ought to punch you in the fucking face." Luckily (yes, luckily) I was in a crappy mood that day and threw it right back -- "Do it!" - and she kept on walking. If I hadn't been in that mood I might have just said "sorry" and felt lame the rest of the day.
The rage rises fast in New York...oh city of vicious competition and deteriorating transit!
More to come on this topic, as more outrage bubbles up. Because once upon a time I had sympathy and modesty...but I've learned by example, and now I have a growing sense of entitlement.
Why? Is it that much of an inconvenience to just take the wall seat? Are they really getting off next, two stops from where the bus originated? People are looking, lusting after those empty seats, but no one's bothering the rude-ass ladies who are blocking them. Finally I can't take it anymore and go to the nearest one. "Can I sit there?" She's on her phone, but huffily complies.
I scoot next to the wall, and feel her trying to jam her big ass and marshmallowy down coat back into the bus' outer bucket seat. I know she's got at least half a cheek falling off as she keeps pressing into me. I feel happy that I'm not the one hanging off the edge of the seat -- super-satisfied that I'm sitting for my mile-long ride home that I know will arrive before this jerkstore's stop. I almost want to thank her for giving me the cushy inside seat.
But then, if I said anything it would erupt into a fight faster than her smacking her condescending mouth at me and what she would probably deem my white privilege.
This is what the women of Brooklyn are like when they're in self-entitlement mode. The bus is their primary domain, and anyone who tries to encroach on their space risks their wrath. They are quick with the rude comments and ugly attitude, seeming ever-ready to form a fist.
I do not understand it -- esp. why it's particularly acid on the buses that traverse the Fulton Street Mall -- yet it's the most consistent part of my commute. I do encounter such entitled women elsewhere in the city -- in fact once I bumped into one on a crowded downtown sidewalk at rush hour, and she responded "I ought to punch you in the fucking face." Luckily (yes, luckily) I was in a crappy mood that day and threw it right back -- "Do it!" - and she kept on walking. If I hadn't been in that mood I might have just said "sorry" and felt lame the rest of the day.
The rage rises fast in New York...oh city of vicious competition and deteriorating transit!
More to come on this topic, as more outrage bubbles up. Because once upon a time I had sympathy and modesty...but I've learned by example, and now I have a growing sense of entitlement.
We're all trying so hard to preserve our space and feeling of legitimacy that we don't care of the person next to us lives or dies! What a cruel city this is!
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