I’m not entirely opposed to touching someone else’s body or having someone else’s body touch mine in appropriate circumstances like, say, a wet peck on the cheek from my Great Aunt Giuseppina, the handshake of peace at Mass if the other person hasn’t been blowing his nose and, of course, emergencies when I might require the Heimlich maneuver because something I shouldn’t be eating, like a Slim Jim, got lodged in my throat.
However, I have limits in the body contact area, and there are circumstances that turn me off completely, and I’ve encountered them a lot lately on the commuter train. How did this problem suddenly reach epidemic proportions after years of safe commuting? Simple. The new and improved train cars have smaller seats, which is just what America doesn’t need while we’re confronting a 21st century obesity crisis.