So I’m sitting on the T (our subway system over here), reading a book, ignoring my surroundings. The woman next to me notices the braces on my knees and asks about them. In hindsight, I should have pretended I didn’t speak English. Stupidly, I gave her a vague answer and went back to my book. She asked another question. I gave another vague answer, then went back to my book. She offered advice (“Have you tried magnetic therapy?”) and didn’t seem to get that my health issues were really none of her business.
Why is that that people assume that if they can see your problem, then they should get to talk about it, offer advice on it, comment on it? Really, just because you can see I have something that you don’t, it doesn’t mean I want to talk to you, a complete stranger. While we’re at it, maybe I should ask you about your worst childhood experience, or your sex life. Oh, is that too private? Gee, what a shame.
And on a side note, a very pregnant woman got onto the standing-room-only train at around this time. I wanted to give her my seat, but I just couldn’t handle standing up. The nosy woman next to me never offered her seat. Luckily, someone else did. It’s nice to see there are still some considerate people.
Chronic Rants 