Open mouth, change feet
Jun. 16th, 2008 06:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgI dedicate this post to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emma_in_oz. I tried.
I am damp after a 20 minute wait for a bus, squeezed on a peak hour train. I'm feeling tired and headachy after a big day, vaguely nauseous after my Monday-morning coffee, and thinking seriously about my bladder. I'm clutching enough stuff to put a bag lady to shame, and my feet hurt. At eye level I suddenly notice a belly. A pregnant woman, standing on a crowded train right in front of me?
I wrestle briefly with my conscience. I really want my seat, but can't possibly leave her standing. But what if she's not pregnant? I wasn't about to make that sacrifice in vain. I make that fatal decision and ask:
"Excuse me. Are you pregnant?"
"What?"
"ARE YOU PREGNANT?"
I think we can all see where this is going *facepalm*. I can only hope I didn't ruin her day.
Later in the trip the seat next to me became empty, but she stayed on her feet. I closed my eyes and feigned death. With some aplomb, I might add. Anyone planning a remake of Weekend at Bernies?
On the bright side, I resisted the urge to apologise some more and blabber about how not-pregnant she actually looked, and how the cut of her coat wasn't doing her any favours. And so on.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, with a nice little shrubbery on the side.
emma_in_oz. I tried.I am damp after a 20 minute wait for a bus, squeezed on a peak hour train. I'm feeling tired and headachy after a big day, vaguely nauseous after my Monday-morning coffee, and thinking seriously about my bladder. I'm clutching enough stuff to put a bag lady to shame, and my feet hurt. At eye level I suddenly notice a belly. A pregnant woman, standing on a crowded train right in front of me?
I wrestle briefly with my conscience. I really want my seat, but can't possibly leave her standing. But what if she's not pregnant? I wasn't about to make that sacrifice in vain. I make that fatal decision and ask:
"Excuse me. Are you pregnant?"
"What?"
"ARE YOU PREGNANT?"
I think we can all see where this is going *facepalm*. I can only hope I didn't ruin her day.
Later in the trip the seat next to me became empty, but she stayed on her feet. I closed my eyes and feigned death. With some aplomb, I might add. Anyone planning a remake of Weekend at Bernies?
On the bright side, I resisted the urge to apologise some more and blabber about how not-pregnant she actually looked, and how the cut of her coat wasn't doing her any favours. And so on.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, with a nice little shrubbery on the side.
