Courtship
Crowded Red Line lately. The college kids are back in Boston full-force with their lavish bulky back-packs and slack grasp of T etiquette, all refreshed and energized from a month home with the parents. I fought my way through the frantically “dinging” doors to find myself mouth to mouth with a 30ish man in smart business casual, our faces inches away. Had I not already been engaged in forced intimate contact with six other men at the time, I wouldn’t have squirmed away from him so violently that nearly knock over my other suitors. Murmured apologies fly.
Approaching an Old Friend
The crowd slightly decompressed after Park Street. Standing next to me was a Asian girl in thousand dollar pants. A tall Asian man came up from behind her and grabbed the bar over her head, his body up against hers. He then started breathing heavily on her neck. Her shoulder fluttered, her head turned, and she gave a delighted murmur. “Jimmy, it’s so good to see you! Oh, it’s been years!” If an old friend approached me on the T by panting on my neck, a uncontrollable kicking mechanism would have rendered them quite sorry and wishing that a simple tap on the shoulder would have sufficed.
With One’s Self
Several years ago on the Green Line, I witnessed some young college kid discreetly but undisputedly rubbing his crotch, eyes fixed on a pert bottom straining through tight shorts inches from his face. I looked around and saw an older Hispanic woman with a tired face quietly observing the man’s activities. I heard another woman make a disapproving noise. He kept it up for a few stops, as if were on his couch watching the Playboy channel instead of a trolley packed with torpid strangers.
With One’s Mate
Everyone can’t stand public displays of affection unless they’re involved in the show. College kids sowing their oats a subway platform is so repugnant. Look at you two young, carefree, hot bodies go. Ooh, neck frenching… looks fun! I’m so happy for you, and am grateful that share your passionate frolic with me. It only stings a little.
Copping Feels
Forced intimacy on the T is detestable to most, but a guilty pleasure for more than a few commuters. Hey, it’s not my fault if that attractive stranger presses up against me. I couldn’t help it if that butt grazed my hand. And if that man has to hold his laptop bag right there, well, might as well try to enjoy it.
