Black. Lesbian. Writer.

I got on the train at the end of the line. When I got on I knew it would be a few minutes before it would take off. I find a seat alone and continue with my texting and tweeting. I glance at the man that steps on before returning back to my phone. Next thing you know, he’s sliding into the seat next to me. I look up and notice that there are empty seats all over the train. I sigh. This isn’t going to turn out good.

He starts talking and his voice is so low, I have to lean towards him to hear him. He asks where I’m going and asks if we can link up afterwards. “No,” I say without looking up from my phone.

“Why?” He asks. I’m sure my mouth feel open. Did he really just ask me why? I pull my eyes away from my phone to look at this cocky dude.

“Because I’m not interested.” I thought that was the polite way to go. I didn’t want to tell him I was gay. I was on the wrong side of town to be making confessions.

“Why are you not interested?”

“Because I’m not and this behavior isn’t working in your favor.”

“Well how can I be interesting?” And at this point I’m confused. I realize then that he thought I was saying that he wasn’t interesting, not that I wasn’t interested. I didn’t have time to break down the difference.

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“You can’t take the time to get to know me?”

“Why should I when I already know I’m not interested? It’s a waste of time.”

“Why?”

“I really wish you would go find somewhere else to sit…” He moves…To the seat in front of me. A few minutes passed and I thought he was going to leave me alone, but then…

“You gonna just play me like a chump? I bet you tell everybody that tries to talk to you that.”

“No, just the ones I’m not interested in.”

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