So I was sitting in the front seat of a taxi this morning, in between the driver and the door. You know, the middle seat.
A not so small woman opened the door and landed heavily on the seat next to the window. I was obliged to squeeze towards the driver to make space for her. After a minute, I became so uncomfortable that I begun to think there was more to my pain than met the eye.
I observed the posture of the hippopotamus next to me, and noticed that she wasn’t sitting straight in her chair. She was well, lounging across it. You know how regal people sit? Tilted to the side, with their legs leaning slightly away from their body?
That is how she was seated, but her legs weren’t crossed. She was just sprawled across the seat.
|Except, you know, leaning|
She made herself more comfortable, and I found myself having sex with the driver’s gear box. Some form of speech was wrung from me. I cleared my throat and tapped her shoulder.
“Excuse me?”, I said. She twisted her neck around with great effort and looked at me wordlessly. There was something scary about that look, but I plowed on.
“Do you think you could try and sit straight? You’re kinda…in my space”. I tried an apologetic grin to mask any impertinence she might feel I have.
( I mean, you want to see a sound thrashing, just witness a skinny bitch telling a big one she’s in her space. Armageddon. I try to avoid it. Until I’m having sex with gearboxes).
She managed to do several things at the same time, all without adjusting her body. Her face scowled, frowned, her eyes opened and she jeered. After which she said: