Picture this: you’re on the T — Boston’s subway system. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and you’re on your way to the art supply store to pick up the ink your teacher warned the class that you couldn’t live without. You’ve already made sure there’s just enough money in your debit card account so that you can buy it. You’re by yourself. You don’t go out by yourself much on the weekends, but it’s just after lunch and none of your friends were free.
Weekends are generally busier because of the difference in schedule from the rest of the week and a presumably higher volume of riders. So the train grows more crowded at each stop and you give silent thanks that you snagged a seat instead of having to get a little too comfortable with some strangers. As the train lurches through the tunnels, you glance around the car, looking in turn at both the interesting and the uninteresting people riding close by.
And then you see him. Twenties to thirties, white male. He’s tapping away at his phone with one thumb and using his other hand to hold the overhead bar. Yeah, nothing big, except—his fly is down.
I mean, you’re not staring at his crotch on purpose, it’s much more of a quick glance and you’re sitting, and he’s standing—
Never mind. He’s a stranger. But.
If your fly was open, you feel like you would want to know. Well. Maybe you wouldn’t. Would you want to know if somebody noticed your crotch?
If you say anything he’s going to think you’re weird. The train is crowded. You can’t just let him know without the little old man and the couple between you overhearing. And you don’t want to be that girl who pointed out his minor wardrobe issue in an embarrassing way. You really don’t.
“How to point out to the random guy across from you on the T that his fly is down without sounding weird” isn’t a topic you’ve ever encountered in any type of manners guide. Oh man, whoever writes that one is gonna get rich.
In the meantime, your stop is coming up, and you still haven’t told him. Are you going to? You should. You shouldn’t. But what if he’s going to like, a job interview or something? What if you failing to tell him means he doesn’t get the job? You can feel the seconds flying by like in those action movies where they don’t get enough time to figure out how to defuse the bomb. Cue that weird camera shot of your eyes with a drop of sweat running down the side of your face.
What if you not telling him messes up his entire life from this point on?
No. It’s his fly. Not a big deal. Maybe if it was a big rip in his pants, or a suspicious stain, you’d say something. For something this small, you decide you don’t want to go there. So you don’t.
But maybe you should have?
Anyways.
To that guy, on the T, months ago. Your fly is down. You might want to fix that. I don’t know. Maybe you’re pioneering a new look. But probably not.
Sorry?
