Good news! It appears that my sirenlike attraction for (not to) the unstable homeless of the city is undimmed. Saturday evening, I was traveling downtown on the 4-5 with one big bag and one small. Because I am a conscientious subway traveler, I placed the big bag on my lap and the smaller bag on top so that I did not take up more than one seat. My efforts to not be an asshole were rewarded when a particularly scented homeless gentleman came from the next car over and sat down next to me. Not the best my nose had ever been, but he had a right to be there; so far, no problem.
Then he started chattering and doing this weird leering thing. Whatever.
Then he turned on a diagonal and pushed his legs into me. I looked over to decide exactly how confrontational I could be about this, and he got his lighter out and started trying to light my bag on fire. Fortunately, his lighter was out of fluid, so no harm done.
The funny part is that I wasn't scared or angry. I was just annoyed, put out that I was being hassled. My thought was basically, "Great, now I have to give up my seat. Asshole."
It would appear that after Homeless Kicker, Huggy Bum, that guy who screamed he was going to make a coat of my skin, and, of course, the legions of subway onanists, I have become a shade less sensitive. Yay?