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“Please, sir. We need just one extra seat for my family to sit together.” A middle-aged man with a thick Russian accent pleaded to a man hogging an entire booth, big enough to seat the man’s family of six. “We do not want to get split up, and it is a long ride we are taking.”

“No, I have to get off at the next stop anyway. You can stand until then.”

“Please sir, my mother, she-she’s old.”

I sighed, annoyedly and shoved my second earbud in my ear, running my finger across my iPod to jack up the volume so I wouldn’t have to hear any more of their banter. I flipped through my history notes because a big final was due that day and I wanted to make sure I was ready. A few moments later, I looked up and the Russian man’s mother caught my eye. She was old. Very old. Like… eighties or nineties. I growled at myself, letting it sound like a cough as I stood up. There were three stops before I had to get off but that man was bothering me. I grabbed my burgundy messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder as I walked aimlessly toward the two men.

“You can have my seat.” I said to the man. He thanked me, I’m sure, but I wasn’t listening. Plus, the metal blaring in my ears was a bit too loud. As I walked by the seat hog, I ‘accidentally’ smashed my graffiti print Converse against his shin, and as he lurched forward in pain, I also seemed to be rearranging my bag to the other shoulder and smacked him in the head with it. It must have hurt. It was filled with school books. I looked down at him with a feigned smile as he glared up at me. “Oops.” I said sarcastically, the smile turning to a smirk as I grabbed the rail above me for the rest of the ride. Justice had been served.