Me first! Me first!

Every day we are besieged by life moving around us, pushing us forward, knocking us down, with little time to get up and brush ourselves off. Our day rushes forward with little consideration of our surroundings only to ensure that we get back to our homes as quickly as possible to sit and do nothing. Do nothing -- until you stand back up to rush through your day with the goal of doing the cycle all over again.

A couple days ago, I was returning home on the train to be witness to a rather extraordinary example of this aimless rushing about. Recent renovations of the commuter train stations often create a (temporarily) crowded exit from the platform that wasn't set up to really accommodate large amounts of passangers exiting the train. Most passangers are patient, clumping around the platform exit waiting for an opportunity to push to the exit-way.

I usually to want to avoid crowding and pushing, so I tend to stay to the very back of the exiting crowd. Occassionally, I'll notice the one or two people rushing up to the front of the crowd only to make the clumping crowd worse.

So anyway, one day I'm standing toward the rear of the crowd and slowly made my way to the exit when, suddenly, I felt a plump, fleshy mass plop itself on the arm I had angled to hold my backpack strap. I glanced down to see it was a human female breast, resting right there on my forearm almost as if delicately placed there as a museum piece or a body decoration.

I ignored its presence at first, but as we shuffled to the exit, the breast's owner pushed forward to the point where I could now feel her nipple through the fabric, creeping down my arm.

I couldn't resist... so among the throngs of people, I proclaimed loudly:

"Ma'am, could you please remove your breast from my arm. It is unsightly. Thank you."

She blushes and quickly replies, "my breast is not on your arm."

"Ma'am,... I feel nipple. Take it off."

I mean, seriously. Are our lives in such a rush that we use brut tactics to gain five feet in a line or a car length on the road? Are we so pressed for time that we're willing to risk our blood pressure and stress levels just to ensure you are first in line? Does it really matter that the person in front of us may get to the next stop light a few milliseconds before you do? And if you do get there first, what have you accomplished? In the grand scheme if it all, the extra, wasted effort is futile. I would prefer to be last in line, avoiding a heart attack.

The "me first" attitude is ridiculous these days - like the little kid at the front of the room waving his hand violently to answer the question. He was an annoying wanker then, and he's not grown up much since then.