Editing Blog/2024-03-19/The Day I Was Superman

[[File:Roshan's Longboards.jpg|thumb|alt=A photograph of 3 longboards against a white wall: a Sector 9 Bomb Hills, an Earthwing Supermodel, and a Loaded Tan Tien. One of the first two is probably what I had that day.|My longboards, I was probably carrying my Earthwing Supermodel or my Sector 9 Bomb Hills that day]]

I visited the Bay Area first in 2013, when I was an intern at LiveRamp. During that time, I squeezed into a tiny room in Berkeley that I shared with 3 other boys. I returned in 2014, and lived for a short time in El Cerrito in an Airbnb. There were other places as well, but these are the ones relevant to the story. It was during one of these two times that this odd thing happened.

At the time, if you were on BART the region you'd experience the most odd things is if you left Embarcadero eastbound and passed through the Oakland stations. To picture the scene you must remember that I used to read primarily paper books and primarily used paper books. And the helmet I wore was pretty heavy so when I read I would hold the book up at eye level. To complete it, I had my longboard between my legs as I sat.

So I'm sitting there being a dork, when as we exit the Transbay Tube, I notice that there's this guy in a light-brown/tan suit and a nice watch standing next to this lady, both of them right by my seat. He's talking to her and she's sort of not responding. But it's not super obvious that anything is going on. Anyway, I decide to pay attention and it seems like he's chatting her up and as far as I can tell she's not particularly comfortable with it since she seems to be avoiding the conversation and trying to look away.

Well, perhaps a more mature person would have directly confronted the guy, and maybe that happens all the time on BART though I have scant evidence of that being the case.

In any case, I didn't actually know what to do. But fortunately I had a role-model: The NYC Snackman. <youtube>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zJeSJhb3Hc4</youtube>

So I did this in possibly the worst way possible. Muttering to myself about how I had to get off soon, I sort of got up, the lady made space for me to exit my seat, and I did so and then just stood there reading my book, with my helmet on, and holding my longboard in front of me. Standing between them. In front of an empty BART seat that no one was taking.

A station or so passed by and the train emptied a bit and then she left to go by the door and exited the train. As soon as the door closed, the suit guy decided to take it out on me. At first it went just like:

<blockquote>Oh you think you're some kind of hero, huh Superman?</blockquote>

At which time, I decided it was best to make for the door myself where there were at least a few more people, but he followed me a little way down the car calling me Superman and hero.

<blockquote>Everyone look at him. He's a hero. Superman.</blockquote>

Well, eventually he did get off the train, and no one seemed to pay him or me any mind so no harm done.

== Epilogue ==

What's interesting to me about the whole thing is that at no point was I certain that I should intervene. I wasn't entirely certain to start with that the lady was being bothered. At the end of the whole thing I was still left somewhat confused as to whether what I did was right.

Most of the girls to whom I tell this story seem to think I did a right thing, though not all the right things, I suppose. They find it easier to recognize the signs, I must imagine.

The other thing was that I could easily have missed all of this. I believe I was reading [[wikipedia:Moll Flanders|Moll Flanders]] from a 1920s copy from a delightful used bookstore I've never rediscovered. If I hadn't looked up to see where I was I might have entirely missed what was going on next to me. But real life is full of detail and things going on.

On the whole, I think I did the right thing. I wish there was some way for me to tell, though.