It’s February here in NYC. I think that’s a relevant detail to include in this story of WTF Transit Issues. So I get on the subway on my way home from work, and it’s pretty crowded. There’s one potentially free seat between two larger dudes, but one of them is kind of splayed out into it, with his bag on it and another bag between his needlessly spread legs. I kind of eyed the seat but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He saw me doing this and gave a heavy sigh and moved his shit. So I sat down, gingerly and on the edge of the seat because he was still all open-thighed, watching a video on his tablet with both hands. At which point he stopped the video and asked me to “lean all the way back in the seat” because MY JACKET WAS SCRATCHY. I then notice this clown is wearing a t-shirt (again, it’s February) and apparently his precious arms which have to be widespread to facilitate his viewing experience are being chafed by my totally normal pea coat?!? So of course instead of a snappy comeback I just really incredulously said, “uh, okay?” and complied. :( :( :(. I thought I had experienced every possible permutation of dudes telling me what to do with my body, but no. Weirdest ride ever.