I was settled comfortably into the morning train, scrolling through my phone, when a man sat directly across from me. There were plenty of empty seats in the carriage, yet he chose the one facing mine, and immediately, an intense, disconcerting feeling washed over me. He wasn’t simply people-watching; he was staring. His eyes were fixed entirely on my face with an unnerving, unblinking intensity that made my skin crawl. I tried shifting my posture, looking out the window, and burying my face deeper into my scarf, but every time I glanced up, his gaze was still locked onto me, cold and unsettling. The train ride was suddenly unbearable, and by the next station, I couldn’t tolerate the violation any longer. I decided to bail out, climbing off the train five stops earlier than necessary, sacrificing twenty minutes of my commute just to lose the man and his creepy, persistent stare.
I was standing on the platform, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease, when my phone vibrated furiously. It was my husband, and his voice was thick with panic and disbelief. “Were you on the train just now?!” he shouted, instantly cutting through the noise of the platform. I confirmed that I had been, asking him why he was yelling. That’s when his frantic tone shifted to sharp, demanding anger. “You need to return to that station immediately! You just met my boss, and you didn’t even bother to say hello to him. He just called me and is absolutely furious about it!” I was utterly confused, asking him repeatedly what he could possibly mean, but before he could answer, a chilling realization hit me. He sent me a photo, and the blood instantly drained from my face—it was the same man who had been staring at me with that unsettling, predatory gaze the entire ride. I froze completely on the spot.
Gathering my composure, I told my husband the shocking truth: his boss was a creep who had made me feel deeply uncomfortable and unsafe. I described the intense, unwanted staring and explained why I had left the train prematurely. I expected fierce support and understanding, but instead, he tried instantly to brush the entire incident off. He calmly insisted that the guy simply “has a weird way of looking at people” and couldn’t have possibly “meant any harm” by it. His tone hardened as he pivoted the conversation entirely onto his career. He reminded me sternly that he had been working tirelessly toward a significant promotion for months, and this absolutely was not the right time to make his boss angry or upset him over a perceived social slight.
He then immediately ordered me to go back to the station right away and approach him—suggesting that his boss was likely still loitering there or walking slowly to the office, waiting for me. I listened to his demand, feeling a hot wave of pure, furious indignation replace the fear. My husband was prioritizing his job optics and a creep’s ego over my personal safety and emotional comfort. I told him in a clear, firm voice that I absolutely did not need to suck up to anyone, especially not to someone who had intentionally made me feel so uneasy and violated in a public space. Without waiting for his inevitable, selfish protest, I ended the call and resolutely hung up the phone.
