What's Mine is Yours

BF and I tend to bicker a lot. Some people think it's cute, likening it to an old married couple's playfull sparring. I tend to worry. Why are we always fighting about nothing? I'm not really an argumentative person--bossy at times, but more than willing to acquiesce on most occasions.

Anyway, I was explaining to BF that I have amazing powers of attraction when it comes to crazy and homeless people (it used to only be men, but my powers are growing and I have also been physically assaulted by crazy women), most often while waiting for the train. A few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to have 3 separate run-ins with NY's crazies-1 one of which was crazy AND homeless. The first of these run-ins was on the A-train while heading home to el barrio with BF.

A slightly unkempt man in his late fifties, probably a war vet, chose to sit next to me (despite the other unoccupied seats on the train). At first, nothing seemed to be amiss. He was just an old man with white, chin length hair and a sweatband. He was clean, didn't smell, and was dressed like a hippie -- birkenstock-like sandals, a well worn t-shirt and cargo pants. But then he started muttering to himself and proceeded to rock back and forth in his seat. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I kept reading my book.

In the 9 years that I have lived in NYC, I have learned to block out many disturbing things--including the crazies that always seem to cross my path. Summer really seems to bring them out. Anyway, I sat next to the increasingly crazed vet for about 5 stops. At no time did BF notice that the crazy vet could at any time start beating the crap out of me. Last summer, while standing on the subway platform waiting for a train, a woman came up to me, started yelling in my face, grabbed me around the waist, walked me over near the edge of the platform, forced me to bend over, turned me so that I was facing the opposite direction and made me bend over again before walking away. She scared the crap out of me. As a result, I find it better to just go along with what the crazies want me to do.

When I asked BF how he missed the muttering and almost violent rocking back and forth he answered by saying, "I dunno, I was listening to my i-pod." BF's lack of peripheral vision really didn't bother me. I have a talent for blocking things out as well. And if I really felt threatened by the crazy vet, I would have gotten up and moved to another car. What did bother me about this statement is that BF referred to the i-pod which he was listening to as his i-pod, when it was actually my i-pod that I let him listen to since he forgot to bring his along for the 40 minute ride up to my apartment in el barrio.

We discussed this for quite a while. Since I am a word monger, I pointed out that he incorrectly referred to the i-pod in question as "his i-pod." BF replied by saying that at the time that he was listening to it, it was his. I beg to differ. I had not given him my i-pod, I was merely letting him listen to it (when really I wanted to listen to it) since I had a book to read. A healthy and somewhat heated debate followed. He tried to analogize it to when people go into a restaurant and if one person drops their napkin, they do not ask the other person to pick up "the restaurant's" napkin, rather, they refer to it as "my" napkin. True, but clearly distinguishable from the i-pod incident. The napkin belongs to an outside third party and the use of "my" or "your" does not indicate ownership--it is used solely as a reference. Yes. I am a lawyer, and Property was my favorite class during first year. Referring to the ipod in question as his rather than mine is less accurate than referring to it is as "[Evil Twin#2's] i-pod."

I refuse to back down on this one and neither will BF. We are at an impasse.