This morning, when I got on the bus, I was the only person standing.

Which is cool… I don’t mind standing, because I sit most of the day, and also?

Squishing up to people is kind of meh on the best of days.

But my standalone moment was not to last, because another woman got on and walked the length of the bus to STAND DIRECTLY NEXT TO ME.

Not, you know, a couple feet away.

Or even a couple INCHES.

In fact, her bag was digging into my side from the second she arrived.

So I stepped away from her to occupy ALL THE ROOM THAT WAS LEFT to avoid the bag-poke, and do you know what she did?

She moved with me. And came in even MORE closely. Now there was something extra-pointy protruding from her bag into my side, and I had nowhere to go to avoid it.

Every bump we hit? POKE!

Every corner? STAB!

The whole trip? OW!

Even when I would try and angle my body a different way to reduce the poke, she would follow me and YIKES!

Eventually, I turned to her (with a kind smile, assuming the best) and said, “Oooh, I think there’s a little something that might be about to poke out of your bag, there.” and pointed at this THING that was leaving dents in my flesh.

She turned to me, smiled (with eerily unwavering eye contact), and said, “Oh, yes. Those are my shears.”

No moving the bag.

No apology.

No breaking her gaze.

“Oh, okay — just didn’t want you to lose them if they poked right out of your bag.”

At this point she shuffles in CLOSER. OW.

“I think they’re safe.”

“Great.”

At that point, I finally just went to stand at the front of the bus, so she and her poky bits could have their space.

She continued to stare at me until another man got on the bus, and her face lit up. He headed down the aisle past me, and within moments, I saw him jump and touch his side.

Yes.

Public transit IS awesome.