Reading my book on the L Train

I’m reading Anna Karenina on the L Train as it goes from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Stop at Union Square, and a woman walks on, and sits next to me. I’m reading, so I do not get a clear look at her face, but she’s wearing a black peacoat, black boots, and black pantyhose. She’s texting at 200 miles an hour, but I feel her elbow poking my right tricep as she’s texting. And she keeps poking as she’s texting.

Now I’m 99.99% sure it’s just a coincidence. It’s rush hour, the train is getting crowded, but a man’s insane/delusional/horny 0.01% “what if” is telling me she’s thinking “who’s this cute guy reading on the L Train and not gazing at me for a split second like every other man on this train? I’m gonna elbow him.” Couple stops later, at Myrtle-Wyckoff, I get off. I guess we’ll never know. Another day.