Though I try to show a positive viewpoint of life on Toronto transit, I have to admit that today a man did spit in my hair. Then I went and sat at the other end of the bus (etiquette tip: the *only* right thing to do when someone spits in your hair is go somewhere else; that is not an opening for dialogue). In my new seat, I told myself firmly that I hadn't been done any harm and it didn't matter, but I was feeling slightly shaken, as if the naysayers about public life might have scored a point somewhere (and, perhaps, they did).
At the next stop, a man got on and sat down one seat over from me.
(beat)
Man: I gotta say, I really like your stockings.
Me: Oh. Thank you.
Man: I got a three-year-old daughter who loves flowers, and, man, if she saw those, she would say, beautiful.
The score is at least even, I'd say.
May you could spare her
RR
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
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1 comment:
You are so civilized! And you didn't even cry, which in my mind makes you a warrior. xo
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