The Joys of Public Transit

On this morning's commute I unwittingly jostled a young woman (actually, she bumped into me from behind). My honed Canadian reflexes immediately came to the fore: I apologized (That's what it means to be Canadian: We apologize. We apologize to panhandlers, we apologize when we're jostled, we apologize for everything). Normally that'd be the end of it, but this lady took umbrage at her own clumsiness and exploded, "OH GAWD!"

WTF.

I was taken aback, and so, summoning up my best tactics from my playground playbook I flung my arms up in the air and yelled out, "OH GAWD!" Instant victory.

Yes, I think I'm becoming an elitist, because I've come to loathe the whole public transit experience. I was on the RT two weeks ago, and I sat down next to an overweight woman who had her fat legs sprawled into MY space. Being a good Canadian, I said nothing. Canadians don't confront. They use subtlety and guile. I refused to yield my space and fought off her invasive thighs by pressing back. My reward? A couple of dirty looks and the sweat off her thighs. The moral of this story: Don't use passive aggressive techniques to combat fat women. You'll only hurt yourself in the end.