murder on the northeast regional

What I plan to say when someone asks if they can sit next to me on the train:

“Please don’t. I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

What I actually say:

“No.” In a disgruntled tone, preceded by a sigh.

I have no balls sometimes. Mental balls. I never have physical balls.

Also, there are children sitting behind me. Talking. Nonstop.

I can’t wait to have my own children, because if these were my kids, I could say “Be quiet!” And they’d say “Why?” And I’d say “Because I said so.”

I have no delusions that this would actually make them be quiet. I would just take comfort in knowing that at least I’d made the effort.

Or I’d punish them. That’s the worst thing about other people’s children. You can’t punish them.


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