Before you read this, read:
Anyway, as I was saying, I made peace with those ropes and began to involve myself in a particular peacetime activity: I began to observe people all over again. There were the girls still clothed with those giggly sheets of conversation, and the couple was still glued to the platform.
They did talk with each other the way society expected a man and a woman in love to. He was all ears for what she had to say and her eyes jogged all around the room when he had something to say. They were carrying with them bags as well - the ones you bring along to catch every item you buy or every thing you want to roam around with. But these bags weren’t privy to the conversation the couple had started to compose for they were banished to that edge of the platform I had vacated!
Evidently, I had given up my seat for a couple of bags! That much-desired edge was for their bags! I was miffed. I began to feel those waves of anger again, but I washed them away with a glance at my empty plate. No point in getting angry all alone, I said to myself. I’ll dance the tango with anger and they won’t feel any of the exhaustion it leaves me with. There was no point in doing that.
Just as there was no point in me agreeing to move away from my edge of the platform. I could have stayed and told them - politely of course - to sit on the other side. But I didn’t - because I allowed myself to be intimidated by them. And I allowed that intimidation because very often, I am given the impression that I being alone - with only my order or my phone for company - automatically makes it mandatory for me to make way for people in love.
Well, I’m fine with that too - making way for people in love. You’re in love and so, you want to coochie-coo - I understand that. But you intimidate me into giving up my seat for you to coochie-coo, then decide to keep your bags on that seat and coochie-coo on the seat next to it - that I don’t understand!
To be continued...
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