Quite Frankly, The Rudest Display of Subway Courtesy (Or Complete and Utter Lack Thereof) Seen to Date

We all know my beef with jackasses on the subway. Or, if you don’t, go here and figure out why I often want to punch people in the goddamned face. Especially since Toronto relies so heavily on it’s transit system. We’re pretty green, after all, and our streets and highways are a nightmare to navigate – there really is no better way than the TTC. Millions of riders a day. I love my subway system.

Unfortunately, my subway system is also a great cause of stress for me. This is due to the simple fact that when I see other people being discourteous, it sparks that nasty little homicidal tendency in me. How dare you fuck with my transit! Especially because I know that most people (polite because they are Canadian, and perhaps fearing violent lashback for speaking up because we are in Toronto) would rather stand than tell some jackass to move their fucking bag.

I will not do this. Oh no. I will push my way through a crowd and walk up to someone who has let their shopping hang so carelessly from their arms or lap, not-really-but-may-as-well-be taking up the seat next to them. Move the bag, it didn’t pay the $2.75, thanks.

This sort of incident is bad enough. Imagine my absolute fury then, on a recent trip home, to see some poshy looking hip businessy type with her similar ‘my bag is worth more than your life’ friend displaying the ultimate show of rudeness. Not only was she taking up a full seat with her bag, meaning her big ole trendy purse was sitting smack dab in the middle of it’s own seat as though it were ready to start up a conversation with other passengers, but she herself wasn’t even sitting!!!!!

Oh. My God. I will kill you. I will fucking kill you. What is wrong with you!?!?!? Do you honestly think that not just you, but your fucking inanimate possessions are that fucking important?!?! If I could pick one shining example of why I believe the world is going to be blown to smithereens by superior beings, that would be it. We are too selfish to move fucking handbags.

Then, when a group of cute little prep school kids (not the annoying kind, but the “they’ll probably be really cool once they finish puberty” kind) shuffled in and sat down. This “I’m too cool to sit” twat gave them one glance and then oh-so-graciously moved her bag one seat over so as to allow all of these kids to sit together. Because, you know, you can’t let your purse sit between two kids, they might get chocolate on it or something.

The kids knew she was a jackass, but didn’t say anything. They all had a seat, so…okay, whatever. But no, I was having none of it. Very loudly, and looking directly at her, I said “Or, another option is to be less of a jackass and to move your bag so somebody else can sit down.” The kids looked at me – clearly I was awesome. I looked at them “Well, yeah,” I said to them, translating in tween-speak to “You know I’m fucking right.” They knodded.

Posh cunt? Didn’t even acknowledge my existence. I found this delicious. She and her friend departed shortly thereafter. I gave her the finger on the way out, and it felt fantastic even though she didn’t see it. The only thing that could have made the experience more satisfying was if one of two scenarios had come to pass.

1) Some pregnant/old/disabled person had come aboard, (I was silently pleading for this to happen) at which point I would leap from my seat for them, make sure they were comfortable, and then walk over to Miss Cunt (now her name for ever after), pick up her handbag and toss it at her, not really considering her ability to catch it. This would go along with a haughty, “I paid the fare – your tacky accessory did not, thank you,” as I perched myself so delicately on the seat.

2) Far more likely, although this didn’t happen either, I was expecting them to get off at Union Station. This is the hub of our transit system, where suburban commuters connect from their trans-city GO Trains to our beloved inner-city transit system. This would have allowed me to loudly proclaim upon her exiting “Ohhhhh, she’s an outsider, riiiiiiiight. Suburban commuter, of course she doesn’t know any TTC courtesy. Got that big ole SUV mentality.”

However, neither of these happened, and so I had to settle for a flipping of the bird upon her exit a few stops before my predicted destination. I, however, was accoladed by witnesses, caught a few smirks from other listeners-in, and was satisfied with my handiwork.

So, just a warning to anybody riding the subway in Toronto. You’ve seen my pictures on this blog, you know what I look like. If you catch me on the subway, you better have your bags in your lap or at your feet. Otherwise, I may spill their contents into the nearest puddle of spilled coffee.

And remember, on the escalators it’s “walk left, stand right”, or I will push your motherfucking ass to the sharp below.