Getting a seat on the crowded bus after work (especially on a friday) is one of those rare treats. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to claim the last remaining seat on the bus. The problem was the little old lady sitting on the isle seat who refused to move her crinkly little arse so that others might be able to get through.
I asked her politely if I could sit down, expecting her to shuffle along. Instead, she moved her legs half-heartedly motioning me to get past. And so I did. But before I could actually sit down, she pushed me into the seat.
Grumpy old lady: "How tall are you?".
Me: "Six foot four."
Me (trying to make conversation): "These seats are awfully narrow".
GOL: "Yes, well. Especially for people like you. You're obviously not a dancer."