seabird78 | Yet another CTA story

So this evening, I was transferring from the Blue Line to the Brown Line, on my way to see a friend perform in this show, and I happened to board at the same time as a man who looked fairly normal, but who was either drunk or high or mentally ill or maybe a combo of the three.

I didn't pick up on it right away, it's just that I got an odd feeling from him when he asked me a question about another person on the platform right before the train pulled up, and this feeling was confirmed when I sat at somewhat of a distance from him, and heard him start to systematically harass various passengers, trying to engage them in conversation by making comments targeted at things he observed about their person.

After a stop or two I tuned him out, and started reading the book I'd been carrying in my bag. Well evidently he got tired of being ignored by everyone he was attempting to speak to, and even though my eyes were on the pages in front of me and nowhere else, he called to me from across the car.

"You like that book? Temple of Air. Yeah, I read it. The woman dies at the end. Yep, that's right. She dies all alone."

I didn't respond, and then the train pulled to whatever station it was reaching and he got off, waving at a man behind me, telling him he'd make a good Marine.

It was an interaction that should have rolled right off. Just another crazy person on the train, right? One of about a billion I've seen over my years of riding public transit.

And yet.....

And yet something about that comment really got under my skin. It felt, I dunno, like a personal attack? As if I was actually the woman he was referring to, and he had me and my fate all figured out?

And, I mean, I guess that was his intent. To get a rise out of me. It almost worked. Because of his smug grin. And his gloating tone. And the fact that he hit on one of my deepest insecurities. I wanted to say, "Fuck you dude, you don't know a goddamn thing."

I didn't give him that satisfaction. I should feel good about that. But instead, I'm a little mad at myself for wanting to react in the first place.

Because why in the hell should I be bothered by the words of someone not in their right mind?

Why must my tender spots be so close to the surface, so easily exposed?

Sometimes it sucks being highly sensitive.