Pole Huggers

Last night, on a crowded subway, myself and my fellow strap-hangers were packed like sardines. As the train sped along, several of us kept losing our footing and were forced to hold onto each other because the nearest pole was being occupied my a portly man who, instead of holding on with his hand, leaned his entire body on the pole, making it unavailable for the rest of us. Perhaps we should have said something, as he stood there with his hands in his pockets, never once moving an inch while the rest of us tripped, and fell into each other like a basket of weeble wobles.