Me First

I find it ridiculous the number of people that have entitlement as a middle name. The feeling of importance is prevalent in today’s intsatwitter society. It has nothing to do with gender or race, rather it seems an American thing.

Somebody told you that you were the center of the universe and your poop is lemon scented. This is the attitude I see where ever I look. The 1 train at 59th street was well populated when I got on. I spent the weekend house/dog sitting and had a small piece of luggage. There was a couple of seats open, but between large people. I would have to sit on the edge and not be able to sit back and relax. I didn’t mind standing because I sat around watching NBA games and Tuna Wars all day.

Halfway down the car was a seat holding a lady’s purse. The lady next to her was busy with her face in her phone and couldn’t feel the people standing all around her. I very much wanted a true New Yorker to make her move it, but the car was full of tourists. It never occurred to this selfish harlot to simply place the purse in her lap so somebody could sit. Or worse, she used the purse on purpose to discourage anybody from sitting next to her. I gave thought to yell, “Excuse me, can you move your purse so somebody who paid just as much as you did to ride―unless you bought your purse a metro card―can sit down?” Instead, I set my eyes on stank in case she looked at me.

She’s lucky she didn’t because when you are on the business end of my particular stank eye you will know you did something wrong and feel bad about it.

William Stephenson

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