Martin rushed through the morning drizzle, barely catching the later train into the city. He’d been up late fiddling with his PowerPoint presentation, and he’d overslept. This train was more crowded than his usual, the 6:33, but he managed to find an empty seat at the far end of the uppers. Two empty seats, actually, because no one wanted to sit in the backward facing first seat at the end of the car—not only wouldn’t it recline, there was no leg room. Martin set his laptop case on the seat, hung his raincoat over the rail, and got out his monthly pass, which he flashed to the conductor, who had just entered the car below. Martin took his laptop out of the case and set the laptop back on the seat and stored the case in the little storage compartment above the aisle rail. By the time Martin had settled back into his seat, the commuter was already slowing for the next station stop. A moment later, a good-looking girl in a dark raincoat was standing next to him, shaking out her long dark hair and looking pointedly at the seat with Martin’s computer on it.

“Oh, sorry,” Martin said, removing his laptop from the end seat and setting it on his lap.

“That’s okay,” the girl said, removing her raincoat and draping it on the rail next to Martin’s. She was wearing a miniskirt. You didn’t see that too often these days. She had nice slim legs. Her attractive bottom was inches from Martin’s face. When the girl turned, Martin was staring straight into her groin. He looked up at her, almost blushing.

“Can I ask you a huge favor?” she said. She had a pretty smile. Pretty eyes. And that long. dark, almost dripping hair.

“Um, sure,” Martin said.

“Do you mind if we switch seats. Riding backwards makes me really dizzy.”

“Um, sure,” Martin said, already beginning to stand. He swiveled and sat in the backwards facing seat, and the girl eased herself into the seat Martin had just vacated. “Thanks, awfully,” she said, smiling gaily at him. “It wouldn’t do if I threw up on you.”

Martin couldn’t help but smile back at her. He opened his laptop and pressed the power on button.

“Cozy in here, isn’t it?” the girl said. “Almost like our own private compartment.” Just then her cell phone buzzed, and she fetched it out of her purse. “Hey, sweetie,” she said. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, this nice gentleman offered me his seat. Yeah, a nice gentleman. Yeah, ha ha, a nice seat. No, not too wet. Ha ha, you’re so naughty—not nearly as wet as you made me last night. Right—hold that thought.”

The girl put her phone away and Martin moved his eyes to the screen of his computer, which was slow to boot up. He scowled.

“Something wrong?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know,” Martin said. “It says something about the webcam application not working. I don’t think my laptop likes trains.”

“I know what you mean,” the girl said. “Sometimes it’s like they’ve got a mind of their own.”

“Like the cursor jitters all over the place.”