Breathing room

Alright. Italians aren't necessarily known for respecting ones' personal space. I don't actually think the concept exists.

I got on the Metro today and it was crowded. Yes, it was rush hour so what was I expecting? I have been on a crowded bus and train before, but never like this. Ever seen a can of sardines? Well, now you're getting the picture. We were so jammed in there that I didn't even have to hold on to anything to keep from moving because other people's bodies were holding me up. One man's arm braced my back, someone's hip was my barrier to the right, someone's back end my barrier to the left, and Lynda in front of me. Quite honestly, I don't know that I'll ever be that intimately acquainted with my future spouse. No jokes. Then! When you think that there isn't room for anyone else...6 more people managed to wedge themselves in. I wouldn't say that I am claustrophobic per se, but in that moment it felt as if the whole train was closing in on me and I could hardly breathe. Of course that could be because I was laughing so hard I was so uncomfortable...I could have died of laughter.

It was insane. Even getting off the train and up the escalators was overwhelming. Then, Lynda and I stood in line for 20 minutes or so and this man kept bumping me from behind every time I moved forward. Seriously...my dance space....your dance space. Respect it!

Thank the Lord the bus wasn't crowded because I don't think I could have handled that. Then again...almost "died" as I crossed the street and slipped on the slick pavement just as a moto was moving forward. Again...all I could do was laugh and once again, lost my breath.