The though occurs that I might be much happier on my commutes – when the train is packed – if I had the assertiveness to defend my personal space with my elbows. Others – men, particularly – sit next to me with their elbows at the sides of their torsos, whereas I have my elbows within the boundaries of my torso, in front of me. I shrivel, basically. And my space is invaded. Like the video game but without the fun.
Hell is close strangers.