Riding on public transport can be a discomforted thing. You often find yourself jammed into small, confined spaces with strangers breathing down your neck while you're busy sniffing the hair of the person in front of you. Sometimes you have to sit next to people that you’d be scared to cross in a dark alley and it's always awkward when you’re unsure whether or not to offer your seat to the lady with the big stomach - in case she isn’t expecting.
Last night on my bus ride home I was snugly positioned next to a large old man who was kindly keeping me warm with his body heat. I recall moving over to the window seat as he sat down and repositioning my feet comfortably under the chair. Much to my subconscious delight my feet found something sturdy and smoothe to fondle, so quite contently I continued to day dream, stay warm and play footsies with this lovely piece of bus I'd found.
It was a good 10 minutes of bus ride before the man with the mighty body heat got off, giving me a chance shift a little, for maximum comfort on the long journey home.
Once settled, I went searching again for my foot's entertainment. It was only then, when my feet searched madly for their plaything, that I realised I had been playing with the foot of the person sitting behind me. I sunk into my seat cringing.
I’m not sure why this person hadn’t moved their foot when I'd first made contact. Maybe they'd planned to but had let it get to a point where it'd gone on for too long. With all the caressing and squeezing going on, it was probably deemed far too shameful to pull away mid foot rape.
I couldn’t even bring myself to turn my head to the side in case I caught a glimpse of my victim in my peripheral.
Five more long minutes passed and it was time for me to attempt a nonchalant exit from the crime scene. It was time to get on with my life.
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