Chivalry
So I was getting onto the subway after work the other day and I was in a particularly bad mood because it was raining and I didn't have an umbrella and I had spent the entire day rushing from meeting to meeting and I was exhausted.And I just wanted a seat.
A seat.
A place to sit down for the 15 minutes or so that it takes me to get from my office to home, so I could rest my legs, which were still sore from the idiotically long run I'd gone on that morning, and take the weight off my feet, which were aching from the moronically high heeled shoes I'd been stupid enough to wear.
And I got on the train and even though it was rush hour there were four empty seats, gleaming orangely at me from across the subway car, and I was so excited.
And I paused to breathe a (metaphorical) sigh of relief, when all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, an overinflated blonde who must’ve topped the scale somewhere around 250 barreled in front of me and made a bee-line for the empty spot, where, of course, she took up not one but two seats.
Goddamn cow.
But there were still two seats left, and one of them had my name on it and was about to have my ass on it as well, when suddenly, as I was almost within sitting distance, they were snagged practically from out from under me by two guys, two hard-edged looking young guys wearing wife-beaters and gold chains.
"Goddamn motherfucking inconsiderate fucks" was probably the kindest thought that went through my head, followed by "whatever happened to chivalry in this fucking city anyway?" and other little tidbits of that nature.
And yes, I'm fully aware that I had no more right to the seats than they did and that I was behaving like a spoiled twit. Your point?
But then, lo and behold, the closer of the two looked up and saw the pissy look on my face, and in the split second it took me to realize that he hadn't noticed me before and hadn't known I'd been going for that seat, he stopped in mid-sit and offered it to me.
Instantly feeling like the world's biggest asshole, I smiled my prettiest see-I'm-not-really-a-bitch smile and in my nicest see-I'm-not-really-a-twat voice said, "no, that's OK, but thank you."
But he insisted and so I sat down and all the way home my aching calves and sore feet thanked him from the bottom of whatever bottom aching calves and sore feet might have. And when I got off the train I tapped him on the shoulder (he'd gotten a seat across the way by that point) and said "thank you again."
And I thought about it as I was walking home and I realized that every single time I've been offered a seat in a subway car it's been by a hard-edged looking guy in jeans and a wife-beater, or a working class fellow in paint-spattered dungarees and a T-shirt, or hip-hop looking dude with a funky afro.
I have never, ever, been offered a seat on a subway by a guy wearing a suit.
Why do you think that is?
posted by Amarula Dreams @ 5:27 PM
