Selfish Pig On the Red Line

Today, a young man with gobs of product in his hair and gallons of cologne on his body boarded the Red Line and promptly splayed himself across four - YES, FOUR - seats of the train. He fixed his gaze on his Metro newspaper for the entire ride, so he wouldn't have to trouble himself should anyone within eight feet of him need a seat.

Such selfishness; no regard for his fellow passengers. But the worst part of all? He was wearing Nantucket Red pants. Who wears those anymore? Well, okay; maybe they still wear them at the yacht club, but come on! You're not even 30 years old! What were you thinking!?

I think he deliberately took up that much space in order to establish a perimeter, so no commuter would obstruct any other commuter's view of his Nantucket Red pants.

Only an artist's rendering can do justice to this heinous breach of commuter etiquette.

Comments

[Beth]

Your talents continue to amaze. Mr. Red Pants stepping on the cane is brilliant!

[adamg]

Rush hour?

[Janine]

I didn't know you could draw! What else are you hiding?

[Ellen]

Beth, thank you!
Adam, yes, this was rush hour. Light traffic however. I think everyone is on vacation.
Janine, I am hiding a human head in the refrigerator.

[Lisa]

As I've said before, it's some kind of macho territorial thing, like a dog marking its turf. I've got to hand it to him, though - four seats may be some kind of record!

[Lee Anne]

If someone does something like this on the San Francisco MUNI (a common occurrence is the old shopping-bag-in-the-seat-next-to-you), I make a point of saying "Excuse me" and then making it clear I am going to sit in the seat. I watch them gather up their bodies and possessions, squeeze them into the one and only seat your $1.25 fare buys you, and settle into my self-satisfied glory.

[Roxanne]

I think I saw that dude on the red line today.

[Beth]

In over a decade of riding the T, I've managed to perfect that Look. The one that manages to convey, in one glance, that I'll have no trouble sitting on someone's bag/leg/lunch/poodle/whatever if they don't whisk it off before I plop down in the seat next to them.
And it works every time.

Then, of course, I smile nicely and say "thank you!" as I sit down.

[Ultramagnetic Commuter]

You have to deal with these people head-on. People like this play on the assumption that noone will challenge them to move. When you ask, you'll find they aren't so big. You obviously have to be prepared to stand your ground if they kick off...