Tuesday, 4 July 2006

Allergies (something living on my skin?)

Yesterday, Jo was working from home in order to attend the visiting plumber, and thus I had to take the train home on my own.
In typical fashion the train was late and the platform was congested with people in a rush. The doors opened and we all rushed in, racing for a seat. It was one of the new trains, the type that has some rows of two seats on each side without opposite facing chairs on the other side, but the guy with the Kippa ahead of me got to the last of those first.
I had to settle for a two opposite two seat. I sat next to this young lady that was all dressed up in fashionable stuff and was reading the MX magazine (the free daily magazine you get at the train station). Opposite me sat this old lady, and next to her there was this dude with a book stuck to his nose (a very short range reader).
I opened my Dutch-orange Crumpler bag to unleash the Asimov's Science Fiction magazine I bought from Borders in an attempt to try and revive old days and start flicking to the page I was on before, when that fashion conscious chick next to me looked at me - and then got up from her seat and went to stand next to the door.
At first I didn't think anything was wrong. I thought she just got up for something and intended to get back to her seat. But she had no such intention - she just stood there, next to the door, still reading her MX magazine. But no one gets up from a seat when they still want to read unless there's a very good reason to do so, and that reason just had to be me! It wasn't like we got to her station or anything - the train was yet to leave Flinders Street Station!
I looked at the empty seat next to me, trying to find a clue. I looked at the chick with the magazine. I looked at my bench companions, and the old lady just looked at me with a smile that said "I agree, what a weirdo". But alas, I couldn't help but feel there was something wrong with me that made her get up.
I scanned myself all over and couldn't find anything wrong. I tried to smell my coat and even my pants to see if something evil caught onto them, but could detect nothing. I was puzzled.
At home I asked Jo if I smell but she said I don't. I don't know, she's biased, and besides - she's used to my stench by now.
I can't stop thinking what was wrong with me, what made that young lady get away from me. It's quite annoying, "knowing" there's something wrong with you but not knowing exactly what...

4 comments:

ek said...

Moshe! This is unlike you to care what a stranger thinks.

She was probably a bit stuck up and was bothered that she actually had to share the space around her with other passenger.

Regardless, i really doubt it was personal. Who cares about the fashionable young lady anyway!!

That's all i had to contribute. :-)

Moshe Reuveni said...

It's not like I really care what she was thinking, it's more to do with the uncertainty of "is there something wrong with me that I am unaware of".
The answer is probably "a lot", but it's interesting to know what someone can observe in just 10 seconds or so.
That aside, I noticed that I often tend to regard strangers more than the people who are close to me, because I tend to take those who are close to me for granted. That's bad, but it's true.
And last, but not least, a man that tells you he is not interested in what a good looking woman thinks of him, regardless of how important this woman is to him, is probably gay. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

K Williams said...

She was extremely attracted to you, that obsessive kind of atttraction, then noticed the wedding ring on your finger and decided that she should leave you alone. You obviously owe her a big 'thank you'.

But I wouldn't be surprised if she starts stalking you.

Moshe Reuveni said...

I'll put it this way: things like that didn't happen to me back at the time I had hair.
I severely doubt the probability of such a scenario now that I'm bold and definitely not beautiful.
Anyway, I'll take your comment as a compliment.