Call me lazy, call me the Andy Rooney of bloggers (can you figure out why I'm earning this nickname?), but if given the option, I almost always prefer to sit than stand. One of my biggest pet peeves is when I am at happy hour with coworkers and there aren't enough bar stools to go around. Invariably, someone will announce that they don't need to sit because they've been sitting all day. Fine by me--that means I get the seat!
I just hate that line. Sounds a little self-righteous. And it reminds me of my penchant for laziness.
I always get a seat on the 6 train. I shimmy my way to the center of the car and snag an open seat as soon as someone gets up, typically after a stop or two. As soon as the train starts slowing down, I begin checking for people closing their books, putting their bags on their shoulders, tensing their muscles like they're going to stand up. I am so ready to pounce. My ride is 15 minutes, so, whatever, I prefer to sit.
Well, after work I was determined to get a seat as soon as I got on at 23rd Street. I was tired and hot.
I hastily went for the first open seat I saw---between a regular-sized dude and an obese woman. Not my best judgment, but I figured they'd both be able to move over just enough for me to comfortably fit.
Wrong! The hefty lady didn't move at all, and I ended up sandwiched between them, having to shrug my shoulders in order to fit without pressing too strongly against them. They were there first after all and I'm considerate, haha.
As we approached every stop I kept hoping that the woman or the dude would get up! I was super uncomfortable, but didn't want to get up and make the fat lady feel bad about essentially taking up two seats on a bench seat that typically holds 3 people with room to spare.
So I just stayed there until the lady got off at 77th Street, physically uncomfortable, sorry that I destroyed the roominess that the other two people were enjoying before I got on board, and grappling with whether I should risk hurting this fat woman's feelings by getting up for a new seat, and also wondering how this woman could be so large, living in Manhattan where climbing a stair or two and walking a block or two everyday is inevitable.
Okay, so I'm Andy Rooney. I accept it. At least I stayed on topic though.