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Today
monshu and I met with the oncologist. Afterwards, I took him out for lunch at Jerry's in Andersonville and he showed more appetite than he has in quite a while, downing an entire half-pound burger with fries. (How often do you have a doctor tell you he'd like to see you gaining weight?) I would've loved to have spent the rest of the day relaxing at home, but I had an appointment in Evanston (with my doctor for a change).
As a result, I found myself taking the shuttle up at an unusual time. I didn't recognise most of the riders, including the greying woman who was occupying my preferred seat. She was sitting against the window and had set a small paper bag on the adjoining seat. I politely asked if she could move it. She did, but I could tell she wasn't happy about it. "There's an empty seat over there," she pointed out, apparently on the off chance that I was oblivious to the existence of seats on the other side of the aisle. I offered to sit elsewhere, but she was already moving her bag. As I plunked myself down, she muttered, "Well okay, but I still don't see why you don't sit over there."
"These seats have more legroom, and I have long legs," I told her, adding, "You could've sat over there, but you chose to sit here, too". I could she was dong her best to ignore me at this point so I opened up my book to read and. After a moment, it occurred to me, Why am I trying to justify a perfectly reasonable request to a total stranger? I don't need any more reason for taking a free seat on shared transport than, "I would like to sit here."
Not too long ago, I would've spent most of the brief journey fuming about a run-in like this (and already planning the outraged post I would make about it). But the folly of giving mental real estate to something so trivial was all too obvious, so I easily shrugged it off and didn't give it another thought until I was at the dinner table trying to come up with an anecdote about my day for the Old Man's amusement. Progress? I guess that's why at the doctor's my systolic blood pressure actually came in under 120 for the first time I can remember.
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As a result, I found myself taking the shuttle up at an unusual time. I didn't recognise most of the riders, including the greying woman who was occupying my preferred seat. She was sitting against the window and had set a small paper bag on the adjoining seat. I politely asked if she could move it. She did, but I could tell she wasn't happy about it. "There's an empty seat over there," she pointed out, apparently on the off chance that I was oblivious to the existence of seats on the other side of the aisle. I offered to sit elsewhere, but she was already moving her bag. As I plunked myself down, she muttered, "Well okay, but I still don't see why you don't sit over there."
"These seats have more legroom, and I have long legs," I told her, adding, "You could've sat over there, but you chose to sit here, too". I could she was dong her best to ignore me at this point so I opened up my book to read and. After a moment, it occurred to me, Why am I trying to justify a perfectly reasonable request to a total stranger? I don't need any more reason for taking a free seat on shared transport than, "I would like to sit here."
Not too long ago, I would've spent most of the brief journey fuming about a run-in like this (and already planning the outraged post I would make about it). But the folly of giving mental real estate to something so trivial was all too obvious, so I easily shrugged it off and didn't give it another thought until I was at the dinner table trying to come up with an anecdote about my day for the Old Man's amusement. Progress? I guess that's why at the doctor's my systolic blood pressure actually came in under 120 for the first time I can remember.