Sassy Mom Picks on Teen in Subway – His Mom Stands up for Him
When a mother publicly chastises a seemingly healthy boy for using a reserved seat, Sabrina’s ordinary subway commute becomes an unexpected stage for human drama. However, there is undoubtedly more involved than first appears.
Subway Battle: A Mother’s Argument
I, Sabrina, was riding the city subway on an unusually warm spring afternoon, simply going about my everyday business. The car was just the right amount of crowded—you couldn’t locate a seat, but you could still stand there without becoming too close to strangers.
A small child, perhaps eleven or twelve years old, was completely engrossed in his phone at the back of the car. He was occupying one of those seats reserved for the elderly, people with disabilities, or women who were obviously pregnant
This woman hurried in, dragging a small child who was barely able to keep up, as the subway came to a stop and the doors opened. When she saw the youngster seated, she shot him a look that might have frozen lava. For a moment, she simply stood there as if she were using her mind to force him from the seat.
Her gaze went unnoticed by the child, who was still engrossed in his TV. She appeared even more irritated by that. She strode directly toward him and exclaimed, “You, young man! I have a kid here, don’t you see? You’re obviously in good shape, so how dare you take a reserved seat? Am I correct? Her voice continued to grow louder.
Everyone began to listen, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though they were supporting her. However, the boy’s mother, another lady, suddenly intervenes. She exuded a serene yet strong aura. She tells the first woman, “You’ll regret this,” and there was something in her voice that caused you to hesitate.
The child quickly puts down his phone, stops playing his game, and rolls up his jeans leg to reveal a prosthetic limb. He removes it and places it directly in front of the startled woman.
You could hear a pin drop as the entire subway vehicle fell silent. The face of the woman? It quickly turned from anger to oh-crap. As if she couldn’t get off quickly enough, she backed off, muttered something, and got off at the next station.
There was an implicit solidarity that permeated the car when she left, and everyone sighed together. As if they were accustomed to this routine, the mother quietly assisted her son with his prosthetic.
As I continued to ride, I couldn’t help but reflect about how hasty we are to make judgments before hearing all the facts. The plays that take place in these public places are absurd.
What do you think? Did the boy’s mother act appropriately? If you were her, how would you have responded? Stay tuned, because there’s another equally crazy story coming shortly!
Seating Conflict: An Unspoken Statement from a Soon-to-Be Mother
Twenty-one years ago, when I was Sarah and experiencing the thrill and anxiety of my first pregnancy, I had a memorable experience on a commuter bus. It was difficult to determine I was pregnant when I was sitting down because the only clear indication of my pregnancy at the time was the noticeable swell of my tummy.
It was normally up for grabs until someone more in need arrived, but one day I was able to secure a seat in the area designated for the elderly or people with disabilities. Personal space was no longer a luxury because the bus was so crowded. All I wanted was a place.
An older woman boarded as we rumbled along. She found a place next me and wasn’t particularly weak—she didn’t use a cane or walker. However, she started kicking at my feet as soon as we got moving. I initially moved away, assuming she was innocent. Was it a reflex, perhaps?
But I lost patience after a few more purposeful kicks. “Ma’am, do you want my seat?” I questioned her, a little irritated. She simply folded her arms and gave a fierce look in return. I got up and turned slightly to reveal my pregnant belly, which was obvious and undeniable.
Her face was set in a resolute reluctance to acknowledge her error, and her eyes flew to my belly before swiftly vanishing. For the remainder of the journey, we stood there: her sitting silently and staring everywhere but at me, and me standing and pregnant.
Under the watchful gaze of the other passengers, we continued our silent standoff. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of unsaid judgments and a kind of silent solidarity from others around us, but the situation was quiet, yet it spoke volumes.
When I finally stopped, I gave the woman a courteous nod and got off, but she just remained silent. Despite being little in the big picture, the bus incident stayed with me as a sharp reminder of how easily we make snap judgments based on what we see—or believe we see.
Do you think I handled that correctly? How would you have responded? Hold on tight, because there’s another story that may be equally fascinating to you!
Miscalculated Needs: A Bus Seat Conflict
What started out as just another city bus day evolved into a lesson in mindfulness and humility. Considering my hip condition, I was fortunate enough to secure one of those chairs designated for those who are unable to stand for extended periods of time. My name is Marianne. It’s as awful as it sounds, so I stretched my leg to prevent it from locking up while keeping my cane tucked away.
The bus was packed, but not overly so. It didn’t feel crowded because it had adequate room. I was completely engrossed in a podcast when I was tapped on the shoulder, bringing me back to reality.
The woman questioned a little too forcefully, “Do you not think you should give up your seat?” Perplexed, I half expected to see someone who clearly needed the seat more than I did. However, she was the only one standing there, looking expectantly.
I only managed to say “Err…” before she interrupted with a harsh “Well!?” My aversion to conflict took over. I murmured, “Oh, okay then,” and gently withdrew my cane in the hopes that she would notice and reconsider.
She didn’t move, though. There was no recognition or remorse even at the sight of the cane. She took the seat as if nothing were wrong, and I got up, every step sending a reminder of my hip ache through my body. I secretly hoped that someone would see me standing there and provide me a seat while I leaned on the pole. Unfortunately, that never happened. I was too proud and hurt to ask directly.
The bus suddenly rocked violently. I lost my hold when the driver had to apply the brakes hard to stop a jaywalker. Instantaneous pain caused my leg to give out, and I slid along the bus floor.
Right there, the bus driver asked, “Are you okay? Have you have a head injury? “Where is the pain?” I was filled with self-critical thoughts as I lay there: why couldn’t I just hang on a little longer?
Despite the fact that I was obviously not okay, I muttered some excuses and attempted to dismiss the worry. With a pointed glance to the reserved seats, the driver assisted me in standing up. The woman who had seated me suddenly appeared utterly ashamed, and she stood up and walked away without saying anything.
That ride was a blur the rest of the way. I tried to ignore the pain and thought about what had just transpired during that time. It all came back to me as I laid in bed that night, serving as a sobering reminder of the struggles people with hidden disabilities go with on a daily basis.
Here’s a small request for anyone who could encounter a similar circumstance: providing your seat is more than just being courteous if you witness anything similar. For those of us who suffer in silence, it’s a huge assistance.
Asking is difficult, particularly when our problems are hidden. Offering someone a seat or any other small gesture of compassion can spare them a painful night. It may not seem like much, but trust me, it makes a huge difference.
