I found myself on Skytrain the other day.
I know it’s better for the planet and all, but I hate public transit. It’s exhausting being with a bunch of other people that I can’t stare at and don’t want to talk to.
You would think that someone with a diploma in human resources might like people more than I do. I find people fascinating, but like them? …well…let’s just leave it at I find people fascinating and move on.
The fascinating creature that presented herself to me while I was on Skytrain wore a velour sock cap covering hair that, judging by the odour, had not been washed since, I don’t know, Halloween maybe. She sat down in the seat in front of me and proceeded to turn sideways in her chair, stick her elbow through the metal bars invading my personal space by a goodly distance. She sat sideways in order to better carry on a conversation at incredibly loud decibels with a teenaged mom (her friend? her daughter? impossible to tell) across the aisle. But this creature was also something of a mush mouth since I couldn’t actually discern much of what was being said although it was said at these loud decibels. At regular intervals she would use the hand connected to the elbow invading my personal space and insert it up inside the sock cap to scratch what must have been an incredibly itchy unwashed scalp. And then the icing on my cake of fascination, she started to use her fingers to pluck out unwanted facial hair. Then examine her fingers for the offending hair. Nothing? Better try again. Successful this time? Nope. Repeat and repeat, ad nauseum.
Good lord woman!
First of all, has ANYONE successfully plucked unwanted facial hair using their fingers? I’ve tried (in the privacy of my own bathroom, on hypothetical unwanted facial hair) and it doesn’t work. You need tweezers.
Second of all, WE CAN SEE YOU! You are not invisible. This is not your bathroom or even your living room. It is a public, shared space. I do not wish to see you carry on your personal ablutions in a public shared space, ESPECIALLY while it is invading my personal space.
Deep calming breath. Must. Keep. Blood. Pressure. Down.
That is all.
This ends my trilogy of grumpiness. I promise to look on the brighter side of life, uh, starting tomorrow.
Just don’t p**s me off.