Please Be Seated

A few weeks back when I was on a crowded subway train, a seated passenger eyed me and mouthed something.  I couldn’t make out what he was saying and he motioned for me to come closer.  When I got near to him, this forty something year old man said to me, “Would you like my seat?”

At first, I didn’t understand why he was asking me that . . . and then it dawned on me that he was offering an “older person” a chance to sit down. I was beyond deeply offended. Way beyond. So what I did was–I slugged him! Right there on the crowded train. A beautiful right cross. A huge melee followed with various passengers taking sides and finally the train had to make an emergency stop just as the authorities were pulling me off of him.

Well of course, that’s not what happened.  Instead, I politely declined his offer.  Not that I would have minded sitting; I was just ten days post knee surgery and standing on the subway car was not doing my knee any favors. But I would sooner have fainted from the pain then take that seat.

What's his stage name?

What’s his stage name?

The offer played on me for a few stops. Honestly, I couldn’t understand it–after all, I wasn’t pregnant. And the idea that I was that “older person” who needed help made me want to vomit. But then I figured out that there may have been another explanation. Maybe Mr. X had read my blog post about my surgery and knew I was probably in some knee-distress.  Or possibly he had been in the OR when I had my operation and knew that I was, in fact, on my way to a follow-up appointment with my orthopedist.

That mollified me for another stop or two.  Until I realized that the chances of either of those possibilities being the case were pretty close to nil.  And then, just as I was arriving at my destination (and my knee was throbbing), it hit me . . .I had been the victim of a joke meant to prey on my feelings of getting older. You know, one of those intricate practical jokes you see on TV where the “victim” has a gazillion friends who team up to pull it off. All while sparing no cost.

I have a number of actor friends so it wouldn’t have been too hard for them to corral a whole bunch of players to fill the subway car. And that Mr. X!  I have to tell you, he’s one helluva actor.  Even though the joke was at my expense, I love my friends for caring enough about me to go to the lengths that they did. They’re the best. But one thing I can’t figure out—how’d they get Di Blasio and the MTA to go along with them commandeering an entire railroad car.  Oh well, that probably doesn’t matter. What’s important is for me to know that the entire thing was a ruse.  Just a beautifully orchestrated ruse.

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4 Responses to “Please Be Seated”

  1. apt3f Says:

    who knew? you are an optimist…

    • iron(ic)man triathlon Says:

      Always seeing the glass half…. what’s the end of that expression?

      oh yes, half full of vodka.

  2. Dr. No Says:

    Perhaps comments sent on cell phones don’t reach this site, so my long, truly uproarious comment is lost forever. I’m too old to try to recreate it.

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