Toe-Thumb

At this point, I can handle just about anything on the subway. I once saw a hasidic man with Downs Syndrome hock a loogie on his shoe. One time on the F train, I saw a couple achieve simultaneous orgasm before exiting the train at my stop. I've seen people practice made up karate, complete with screams and Bruce Lee flourish at the end.

This sort of thing, I can handle. At least I know where I stand with karate man. I understand how we fit into each other's lives.

Yesterday, a guy started talking to me about my sneakers. Evidently, he had once owned a similar pair. Great. Not that interesting a conversation, but knock yourself out. But then he leaned down and rubbed his enormous, weird, big-toe-esque thumb across my entire shoe to accent the fact that both his pair and mine had been suede.

And now it's awkward.

Not for him, you understand. He clearly didn't think twice about this sort of physical contact. But I'm from Connecticut. We don't touch. We'll hug amongst our own families, but just barely (and mostly just in case other families are watching.)

So it changed from an odd conversation about Adidas into me pretending to have that conversation while thinking about nothing but the giant, calloused, cracked toe-thumb.

Listen, god bless you and your crazy toe-thumb. Whatever happened to that thumb, fella, you're living with it, and good for you. But maybe try being a little sensitive about who is ready to touch the thing.

Thank you in advance for never toe-thumbing me again.