2004-02-11 - 3:48 a.m.
I had one of those embarrassing moments on the subway this morning where a woman, clearly under the mistaken impression that I was pregnant, not only tried to give up her seat for me, but, just in case anyone near us wasn't already watching, made a big deal about how she would have given it up when I first got on but she'd had her eyes closed and hadn't seen me standing there, etc etc...
There is simply no graceful way to deal with this when it happens. Do you say to them "Thanks, I appreciate your civility, but I'm not actually pregnant, just fat and wearing a large winter jacket which bells out in the front when I wear a back-pack"? Or do you just smile and say "Thanks, but I'm fine standing", which kind of lets them go on thinking that you're breeding? That path avoids the fuss and embarrassment of correcting them, but what if they then start asking you pregnancy-type questions like 'When are you due?" Or what if they see you around all the time after that and figure out that you're not?
And what if they ask you about it? Do you tell them they were mistaken the first time, which basically confirms that you sort of lied to them? Or do you make up some sort of story about how it wasn't a baby, it was a tumour, or you gave the baby away, or something... and then you end up trapped in a web of ever more complicated lies and intrigue, creating stories of an imaginary alternate life involving gypsies, or mysterious medical conditions, or the father being my long-lost cousin so that the baby was tragically malformed and is now in an institution with gothic turrents and stuff... and everyone knows that creating an imaginary alternate life is a recipe for disaster because eventually someone finds you out and then you're humiliated, or you dig yourself in way too deep and then have to leave town in the middle of the night and change your name.
Why is life so complicated?
