I don't know if it was because the 41B Keele was third-world-market packed (and thus third-world-market hot) or because the driving rain had turned the teeming masses into a bouillabaisse of utter contempt, but when the pushy woman insisted that I move out of her way so that she might grab a seat all the way at the back I couldn't help but surrender to my ire:
"Madam, I promise you that two people cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Plus, your bag of groceries is currently doubling as a colonoscope. Kindly remove."
I am slightly ashamed to admit that I contemplated whether or not I would engage in a fistfight with this woman if pressed further.
I am even more ashamed to admit that I most definitely would.
The most shameful aspect of the whole situation? She would have won. Handily.
chrstphr
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