When I ride the train I strategically pick where I'm going to sit. For instance, going to work I sit in the seat directly at the door, on the side I will be exiting, facing the front, with no seats in front of me. So when I get to work I can just pick up my bag and exit the train without crawling over everyone.
Conversely, on my ride home I sit on the opposite side from where I will be exiting, facing forward, where there are seats in front of me. This too is strategic. Typically I take a little nappy nap on the way home and feel a little safer with seats in front of me and away from the door where people will be entering and exiting. Okay, so that's my thing. I'm telling you all this so you'll have a visual picture in your mind's eye.
This particular day when going home I did my usual, sat on the opposite side of the doors I'd be exiting, behind a row of seats, and readying myself for a snuggly ride home. It was unusually quiet for a rush hour evening, UNTIL!
We get to Potomac Avenue Station and I can see from the reflection in the glass that a Lil' Wayne look a like sits directly behind me. Damn! He's sitting the long way on the seats like he's on a chaise lounge at a 5 star hotel, and I knew my ride was going to go straight off the tracks. How the hell can I take a nap with this Joe behind me? Across from me was a young lady in a really short skirt, reading a book in the seat I usually sit in going to work; the seat by the exiting door, with no seats in front of her. You got the visual? Okay hang on.
Well I guess he got bored staring at the back of my neck and decided to move to another seat, diagonally across and facing me, which put him sitting directly in front and facing the young lady in the short skirt. But she can only see him from the chest up because of the Plexiglas upper partition with the white panel on the bottom, but I can see his whole body.
Still with me? This is a lot of explaining about logistics to get to the real meat of this seedy mess.
(I've included this pic from my cell phone that I snapped the other day so that you can get a view of my vantage point.)
Now I can really see him. He's wearing an all black Helly Hanson ski suit, which seemed strange because even though it's winter, it was unseasonably warm that particular day. I'm trying not to stare but staring none-the-less.
He unzips his jacket and leans back in his seat. Okay, maybe he's ready for a little nappy nap too.
Oh but no, his focus is on the young lady in the short skirt who is totally unaware of what's going on because she's laser focused on her book.
So now I'm looking at him, looking at her and all of a sudden it's OUT! You know what I mean, IT was OUT (just like an old Seinfeld episode).
By now were approaching Stadium-Armory. Certainly he's afraid of being caught and will put IT back in. But oh no, he's unfazed by the opening and closing of Metro's train doors.
By the time we get to Capitol Heights Station it's out in it's full glory. I probably could identify IT in a line-up. Yes I kept looking! But as his eyes began to roll in the back of his head I could look no more. I knew what was coming next.
I get up from my seat and stand between him, the Plexiglas and the young lady. I'm sure he was cursing me out in his mind for blocking his view.
I get her attention and motion to my right with my eyes and ask her softly "Can that guy see up your skirt?" She looks down and repositions herself and says "Huh?" not really grasping what I've just asked her. "See that guy?" and I motion with my eyes again. "He's looking up your skirt and masturbating."
She jumps up, the book she was reading hits the floor, and I help her gather her things. We get off at Addison Road, switch cars and she is visibly upset and shaken. We sit together speechless. We pass Morgan Boulevard, still no words.
"Next Stop Largo, Doors Opening on the Left."
We exit the train and start toward the escalator when we realize he's gotten off with us. We lock arms in solidarity and start down the escalator. He on the other hand boards the train on the opposite side of the platform heading back to D.C.
Careful ladies!
"Step Back, Doors Closing."
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