Fat Bastard

Dear fat asshole on the subway,

Hi. You don’t know me but I am fairly new to the Bloor Danforth line having just moved a few weeks ago. I am getting acclimated to my area and more used to the new transit route I take to work. On most days, even today up to the point where we met, I love my new route.

Unlike the Yonge line of my former life, the Bloor line is calm, peaceful and easy. I have never found myself elbowed, shoved, rammed into a strangers armpit or touched. In fact, I find more often than not I have room enough to stand or sit with a book- that, for anyone who knows the subway system, is huge.

Sure, I realize that it is summer and that come September the numbers of people on my route may change with kids going back to school and whatnot- but alls I can say is last summer on the Yonge line I found myself in a daily battle of “should I walk home in the unbearable heat, sweat through my work clothes and dehydrate completely” or “get on the over packed sweaty subway”. Haven't ever had that feeling on Bloor.

Now, it seems like a bratty thing to do, to complain that you have no AC right now in your house because you chose to gut your kitchen and rebuild it into the kitchen of your dreams and in order to do that the contractors had to cut a wall out and thus eliminate the vent from basement to bedrooms- but know this. I lived without AC for 2 summers. I slept with bags of ice, cuddled wet cloths to sooth my body temperature. I took ice cold showers, employed fans galore and NEVER have I ever experienced the heat like last night.

Where I once complained that my unit was on the ground floor and thus got a plethora of centipedes, I knew not how incredibly hot it gets one floor up from the ground. I may have reconsidered my position.
At one point, the heat was so intense that it felt as if there was no air at all in the room. I think I may have awoke choking on the wet, unmoving, overly bothersome air.

Although we ended up in the guest bedroom which was a whole 1 degree cooler, I still woke up with wet hair... And by woke up, I mean actually got out of bed because I sure as shit didn’t sleep last night. Not one little wink. I rather cursed the heat, cursed it being Sunday night/ Monday morning, cursed the exhausted day that lay before me, cursed my snoring husband...

Anywho, I digress because the whole purpose of this letter is to tell you how much I dislike you and ranting about my house is hardly a way to garner sympathies.

But, to note, I woke up a living zombie- there was one point where I tried to rise from bed and in a moment of pure tiredness, I fell halfway off the bed and actually fell asleep in that totally abnormal position for 10 minutes.

It was my delight to find my bus, as usual, had ample seating for me so I could sit, get into my book and doze a bit on my way to the subway.
The subway too, as usual, had seats available and more than enough standing room to place myself in. I entered a particular car and on said car there were 3 empty seats. 2 were immediately taken by fellow subway boarders,1 remained empty so that you, fat bastard, had a place for half your ass and your briefcase.

Now, fat bastard, I have been aboard many a subway with people your size and I assure you that with some careful maneuvering, you can fit your whole ass on one seat- but moreover, did you briefcase need a seat to itself.

Did your poor briefcase have a bad night’s sleep too and arise to find itself in a total state of poopedness? Perhaps your briefcase had a foot injury?

Obvi none of that happened, dick, so why oh why, when I came and hovered over the seat hoping that like a good TTC rider you would acknowledge how rude you were being and remove the briefcase so I could sit down in the seat I obviously was aiming for- did you do nothing?

That is just not nice.

I know you saw me trying to get that seat and that you actively ignored me- well let me tell you a little something mister.... I would love to have rows of the TTC to myself too. I would love to spread out a disposable blanket, break out a prepackaged airplane pillow and fucking take a nap on my 10 minute ride. I would love to sprawl all my crap out, not put my precious gym bag on the dirty floor- I would love to put up my feet in the seat beside me every single time- what stops me is the same thing that stops me from saying what I think with no chance for digestions- it is called a social filter and its purpose is to make sure you do shit that is socially acceptable. Hogging 2 seats on the public transit system, I would say, is a felony no matter how big your ass is.

So hear this dude- I will forever (probs for a day or 2) be watching for you- waiting for the moment when you get on the subway after me and look longingly for somewhere to park your load. I will be sitting beside my precious lunch box who will, of course, have had a wild night and therefore in need of a solo seat. I hope you sweat standing.


Thank you,
Jane