Big mistake wearing spandex leggings on the subway.
I sat on a barely crowded train today- the seats were mostly filled and people were a bit less than a foot distanced from each other, but no one was standing. Sandwiched between two middle-aged men, I was wearing my shiniest pair of leggings (was feeling like having a super-slender day when I woke up this morning). I sit with my legs crossed most of my lady-like time, though on a back-to-back crowded car, no one really appreciates it. Today’s leg pattern was no different as the train took off going north. I felt a whiplash under me, but I clenched as usual. Traction lacking by fault of my sleek attire, my vain intention bit me in the butt, as I (or my bitten butt) started to swiftly slide south. I tried to catch a grasp without having to awkwardly unravel my legs and reveal my balancing trouble. It didn’t quite work and I was forced to shoot my boot down a millisecond and centimeter before colliding with the man to my left. I turned with a stressed and apologetic look, as I tossed up my hand for remorse. He smiled back, but I couldn’t help but think it was out of laughter at my expense and not sympathy.
I re-crossed my legs as to regain some of my poised femininity.
But, in no time, the screeching halt that the train came to at 23rd street threw me for another ride as I came a particle of dirt away from man 2.
It happened over and over, my teetering between the two men (as if I ain’t used to it…pfhh), and it became normal by the time I got up to 68th.
I do know one could propose an easy solution: stand up and hold a hand rail, but I have a pseudo-phobia of touching all things on the subway. And by pseudo-phobia I mean I would rather pick up roadkill with my bare hands and give it a bubble bath than touch anything New York City public transit.
So there in its combination- the pifalls of tight spandex and a stubborn, single-case of germaphobia – my super slender day began.