An open letter

To the middle-aged woman that kindly offered me her seat on the crowded train this morning:

As you are no doubt aware, common courtesy dictates you offer someone else your seat in exactly three situations:

1. The other person is significantly older than you are. Especially if they're over sixty and rather frail.

When you are, let's say fifty, and the other person is just freshly thirty, this reason does not apply.

2. The other person is disabled, injured or otherwise clearly would have difficulty standing.

If the other person is in good health and not visibly disabled, this reason also does not apply.

By process of elimination, I can only assume that you offered your seat because you thought....

3. The other person is pregnant.

If you happen to look down and see a baby emerging from her nether regions at exactly that moment, then AND ONLY THEN, is it acceptable to imply that someone is pregnant.

I can only assume you meant the offer kindly. I do not think your intention was to make the recipient of your offer spend the entire day asking everyone if they think she looks pregnant. I understand that your look of shock and mumbled apology when a certain librarian-in-training gasped and said "No-WHY?" meant you saw the error of your ways. Your apology, though slightly devalued by continuing to cast dubious glances at said librarian-in-training's torso, is accepted.

On the condition that you never, ever do it, ever again.

Sincerely,
Librarian-in-training

P.S. Work has soundly kicked my ass this past week, and I've barely been knitting at all. In an effort to be more organized, tomorrow's post will contain a works-in-progress round-up (preview: works in progress - many; actual progress - very little).