Courtesy

He gave up his seat on the train to an elderly woman who nodded her appreciation. Moving further toward the back of the passenger car, he found no empty seats, except for one where a young lady, probably a college student, or maybe even high school, had settled her backpack. No sense asking her to move it so he could be seen as creeping on the girl. Another seat, or part of a seat a few rows back, held the overflow of a passenger who didn’t look all that comfortable sitting in one-and-a-half seats anyway. So he looked for a strap to hold onto, and realized, just as the intercom dinged the approach of the next stop, that all the straps within reach were already in use. Too late, the brakes hit, his weight shifted, and, facing the wrong direction at the wrong time, he tumbled, first into the rotund passenger, bounced off, and landed in the lap of the school girl. As he tried to extricate himself, apologies all around, several people gave him cold looks as they stepped over or around him to exit the train. The elderly woman stood up, crossed the aisle and bopped him over the head with her purse while yelling one word at him. “Pervert!”

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