There's a guy on the train with me tonight, sitting across from me at the table where people can have their laptops. He's seriously obnoxious.

When I get on the train and sit next to/across from someone, I usually ask if they mind if I sit with them. They usually say no but smile at the gesture. Now not everyone does this, but most people have some form of verbal or non-verbal greeting to reassure the other person that they're friendly/nonthreatening.

This guy just plops himself right in the middle of the three-seater talking as loudly as he likes on his phone. No eye contact, but immediately starts eyeing my laptop, my phone, my ticket, everything I've brought.

I also keep in mind that sharing a table with someone means that we split the table in half evenly. This guy has his laptop smack dab in the middle of the table, jutting out into my imaginary space. He also continues glancing over at everyone else's spaces to see what they're doing while tilting his work away from everyone else like he's paranoid. He has no sense of respecting people's space and privacy.

I continue to be reminded that there are people who are not conscientious.

My last post was a lot about the trait of agreeableness, but conscientiousness is also huge. It's probably the trait I would use to describe myself if I needed to use one word.

It's loosely described as industriousness and orderliness combined. It sort of means knowing what one ought to be doing. Having a sense of “ought” at all. It's often congruous with having a care for how one interacts with others and understanding that your actions have rippling effects.

I guess I think of it as how strong your connection is to the rest of the human race.

Conscientiousness is an indicator of conservatism (consequently, openness is an indicator of liberalism). I am extremely conscientious but I'm working on my openness.

Everyone's laptops on this table are straight and in their space. His is crooked and tilted and encroaching on my space. He keeps shifting from one end of the table the other, taking up the whole seat with his legs. He's pretty big, too. Not particularly attractive. I think he's rich.

Oh. He moved when the person at the other table left. It was just us at this table, and he took his first opportunity to move. I'm crying. Not a hundred percent sure why. I guess that hurt. I did my hair and my makeup today, but this guy would rather sit at a smaller table than the one with me.

Maybe he just likes having his own.

Maybe he thought I wanted more space. Maybe he could tell I didn't like him somehow. I guess moving is the grown up way to settle those differences. Maybe he can read minds.

Oh well. My feet are up on his seat now. Who cares.