Some things are more embarrassing than they need be.
Subway rides, for example. With children.
Today I wanted to go to Manhattan on the Subway, but Coco didn’t. Madge toughed it out. But every time the train pulled into a station, Coco struggled to break free and kept shouting – and I mean shouting – “No more transion! No more transion!” (Transion, I believe, is a conjunction of transfer and station, which, I guess, most accurately reflects his feelings about the matter.)
By the time we got to our desired stop I was a sweaty mess.
But the situation is still understandable, something everyone can read as painful, but somehow necessary. A toddler balking. And it’s not like walking or taking a bus or cab would be any more helpful once you’re already on the train.
No, what truly gets to me is when the train is empty enough for the poles to be unoccupied and therefore irresistible, but not so empty that there is no audience for Madge’s dance. Head back so the hair swings free, back arched, legs - oh, I can’t get into it. It’s an innocent thing, of course, but...
Here, you try finishing this exchange:
“Stop twirling around the pole, please.”
Hm? What do you say that will be satisfactory and not just authoritarian bull that doesn’t fly anyway.
And trust me, I have said, “Would you take ‘because I said so’?” It doesn’t work.
Good luck on solving the puzzle.