Nov. 18th, 2011

jethrien: (Default)
Last night, on the way home, I had not one but two weird encounters on public transit.

- On the subway, my car got Occupied by a very earnest young man who proceeded to read from The Grapes of Wrath, specifically the part in the beginning when the banks force the owners to force the farmers off their land. It was actually really quite appropriate. And because I like Steinbeck's prose and the guy did a good job reading, pleasant in a thought-provoking way. Like having a subway preacher who you actually kinda agreed with and with really good word choice. (And he just read aloud, didn't do anything that seriously inconvenienced anyone.) Well done, OWS protester.

- When I got on board the PATH, I took out my Nook. The guy who was sitting in the seat I was standing in front of was an older man with a thick accent I couldn't identify.

"Excuse me, young lady," he said.
"Yes?" I answered, wondering if he was going to hit on me or offer me his seat.
"I would like to ask you, wouldn't you rather talk to someone than read a book?" This was said slowly and very earnestly.
I paused for a second, taken aback, and then said quite frankly, "No."
He looked surprised. "Why not?"
"Because I like my book, thank you." Then I buried my nose in the Nook and he was silent for the rest of the ride.

Now, it's not that I dislike talking to people, but strangers on public transit are not generally my first choice. There's a Code. And I spent the better part of the day playing salesperson, which meant I was witty and charming and sincere and delightful to perfect strangers whom I did not personally care about in the slightest. (Although they were also quite nice and it was a perfectly pleasant lunch.) So no, I didn't want to be charming to strangers again, I wanted to read my book during the one time I don't feel guilty about reading my book. I really like reading. I don't have much time for it except in the subway. If you want me to talk to you instead of read, you should probably pay me.

Only, I ended up spending half the time pretending to read and puzzling over what the heck brought that on. He didn't try to talk to anyone else. Was it just that he wanted to talk to someone and the first person shot him down so he stopped? Did he want to talk to me because I'm young-ish and pretty? Does he have something against books? Or Nooks? Is he new to the subway and doesn't understand the Code? What on earth brought that on? Curse you, strange man! Despite not wanting to talk to you, I've now devoted far too much time thinking about you!

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