Men on the subway

Who’s Got The Biggest Balls Of Them All?, by Abigail A. Frankfurt, is an investigation into why men sit with their legs so far apart on the subways of New York.

Please note: Those of you who have not witnessed this phenomenon personally must be made to understand that this is a real thing.

More than once I have been tempted to stick my leg through the bar on the end of the train bench because, while there is plenty of room for my posterior, the legs of the man beside me are open so wide that I literally can’t fit my legs in front of me on the seat unless I stack them on top of each other.

I’m don’t mean that I have to cross them prettily, calf pressed against the knee. I mean stacked, like cigarettes in a new pack. And I am not a large person.

Once a man sat in the spot to my right and proceeded to open his legs wider and wider, forcing me to shift my body sideways. I was reminded of that crankable mouth-opener thingie dentists use while performing a root canal. I stacked my legs, and then stacked my bags on top of them, but still the man’s crotch required more room.

On that particular day, subway rage overtook me. (This happens from time to time, and Mr. Maud is always urging me to tone it down, to remember that most people are bigger than me and some of them are insane.) “Excuse me,” I said, slamming my leg back down on the seat.

“Look, baby, it’s been a long day,” he said. “And I’m a big guy.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I said.


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