So I got on a bus today and sat at the back beside some gormless-looking young man. His large brand-name trainers were all up on the seat opposite, scuffing the edge and I found myself getting annoyed at this. I wanted to tell him to take them off the seat…but I never did.
Once I got off, I felt bad that I never said anything. If I was an old woman, things would be different. I’d have given him what-for and prodded him with my walking stick. But I felt a little uneasy thinking I should remonstrate with him. He didn’t look unhinged but I wondered if he could snap. So the next person that sits down there will have the remnants of gormless boy’s shoe on their backside. I seethed & felt guilty at my lack of assertiveness.
Mind you, that’s not the worst thing I’ve seen on a bus concerning feet-related incidents. One summer (again I was sitting at the back), this large woman came rolling down the aisle, mobile phone clamped to her ear. She sat in the corner, took off her sandals and put both her dry, crusty feet on the seat opposite. Fortunately, they didn’t smell but when I say her feet were crusty, I mean dry as a bone! I wondered when she last used a bottle of lotion or Vaseline.
Then she massaged one of them and I felt queasy but I was trapped as my stop was not for a while and despite there being other seats available I was transfixed by such high levels of ashiness.
Ah, the joys of public transport 🙂
© G. Holder 2013