I thought it was a one time thing or maybe people thought I was just sorta chubby. But by the time I was 8 months pregnant, with my belly hanging over a young woman's face one day, I would have thought a lightbulb would have gone off in someone's, anyone's, head. When the train jolted, my belly almost knocked her in the forehead... but still, no offer.
About a week later I was being crammed by a large crowd into a train at Union Station. I was starting to get freaked out because I could tell I was losing my balance. So I yelled, "Stop pushing, I'm 8 months pregnant!" I swear it was like the parting of the Red Sea. Suddenly, no one wanted to be near me. It was as if I was leaking amniotic fluid at that very moment.
So here I am, almost 2 years later, thinking back to those rude moments. I keep thinking back to them because the other day I was reading a letter in the Express (the Washington Post's metro paper) about a guy who offered his seat to a lovely pregnant woman, who said she was fine but she would stand, thank you very much. But before the guy could sit back down, another person snatched the seat!
This, my friends, is Washington, DC.
And that's why I live in Baltimore.