I was working on my friend's biscornu last night on the train when this guy sat down next to me (I was on the inside seat). He was busy reading his book, then he reaches into his bag and pulls out RED gatorade. He drinks a few sips, then instead of putting the top back on, he sits there holding it. Primed to splash all over my white fabric!
SEPTA rules clearly state: Eating and drinking is prohibited on SEPTA vehicles. In fact, one time these rowdy girls were doing a sing-song of the rules as they are posted on the El: "no eating, no drinking, no loud radios. It's common courtesy. It's the law!" I folded my project up, put it away with a flourish, heaved a sigh, and sat there glaring at him with my arms folded. He put away the drink. With exaggerated movements, I take it back out and put in a few stitches. Out comes the Gatorade. In goes the project. If I had been on the outside, I would have just gotten up. But I felt incredibly put upon because I was in the inside seat--where could I go. I contemplated telling him how rude it was to put my project in jeopardy. I thought about pointing out that he was breaking the rules. I considered telling him we'd both regret it if he ruined my needlework with his contraband. When seats were available, I excused myself and moved to another seat. But really, why the fuck should I have?
The dude said there was nothing else that I could have done that would have brought us to such a satisfactory conclusion.