Subway Cooties

A few days ago, I saw the strangest and most uncomfortable form of physical affection on the subway. I can't get it out of my mind. So I'll share it with you.

Really, I should draw pictures. But I won't.

She was leaning against his shoulder. Her eyes were closed. His arm was around her.

Sweet.

His arm reached over her shoulder, his hand touching her face. Prodding it. Playing with it, as though her skin were made of soft clay. He pinched her cheeks. He pulled at her lower lip, then her upper lip. He stuck his fingers in her mouth. For a moment, I thought he was going to knead her face into a new one.

Not once did he turn to face her. He just stared straight ahead, rearranging her features with his public-transit-infected fingertips, while she quietly stirred against him.

This continued for the entire duration of my ride. I'm assuming he's still tugging at her flesh somewhere.

Moral of the story: sometimes love is gross.

The Cost of Marriage: Subway Edition

I overheard a fascinating conversation on the subway today. I wish I was wearing a wire. Because now I only recall fuzzy little fragments of what could have been a really fascinating look into the lives of strangers.

Two women, one a married Christian, the other a single Muslim, were riding the TTC together. The single girl, probably barely 20, rambled on immaturely about her impending marriage. A marriage that sounded more real than wishful thinking but less real than one an engaged woman anticipates. Perhaps she was seeking an arranged marriage. Or she was just jumping way ahead of herself. I have no way of knowing.

I'm the single girl who probably has little grounds for handing out marital advice, but I'm pretty sure that even the most knowledgeable of counselors would be waving every red flag she could scrounge up. Don't get married, child. You. Are. Not. Ready.

Her thoughts on marriage:

• I just want someone who's nice. And not controlling.
• I don't want to have to do anything.
• I want him to have the money. I want him to have the good job and to pay for everything. In my religion, my money is my own. I don't have to give it to him. I want to keep all my own money. For me.
• I don't mean that he has to do everything, I just want him to think that he has to.
• If I don't get married, I'm going to have to move to Calgary with my parents.
  

To her friend:

• [RE: finances, household responsibility, children] You talked about that stuff before you got married?
• How did you bring that up? Isn't it weird to talk about that stuff?

And her friend gently told her about premarital counseling at her church. She told her how easy it was to talk about the important things. Because you have to talk about them. And you actually want to talk about them when you're with the person you're planning a future with.

And the little girl looked baffled. Like someone who was looking at snow for the first time. Here was a woman who shares her money with her husband.


Dear future husband, you can have my heart AND my cash.


And yes, I realize that I called the same person a woman, a girl, and a child. Because she was all three. And should probably move to Calgary with her parents.

Flirtation 101: Streetcar Edition

Today on the streetcar, I had a rather fascinating lesson in the art of flirtation. Let me set the stage.

The boy: a cute, clean-cut Mormon (name tag and all) who could probably get a job modeling for a JCrew-style catalog. A lesser-known version of JCrew. He could be a part-time model (to steal an observation from my Conchord boys). I'll call him PrepBoy.

The girl: a crazy woman who sounds like a man. I'll call her LocoGirl.

LocoGirl: But you look so nice. I'm surprised you haven't been asked by Playgirl to be in the magazine.
PrepBoy: Nope. Just church stuff.
LocoGirl: Wow, you got such huge muscles. Do you use Crest Whitestrips? Your teeth are like pearls.
PrepBoy: No. I just brush them.

See how she complimented him? Engaged him in conversion? The next question to subtly spew out of her mouth was inquiring as to his marital status. And because he answered that he was single, she proceeded to tell him that she would marry him.

That's how you get to the point. No beating around the bush. She was interested. She complimented. And she proposed marriage.

Perhaps I make things too complicated.


Note to self: Next time you're hanging around a man who's captured your fancy, bring up dental hygiene, marriage and Playgirl. And do so loudly. In a public place. And according to today's lesson, be sure to sound like a man. It's sexier that way.