Flashback from the hell of commuting in New York

I'm sitting in the front (quiet) car of a commuter train heading north along the Hudson River a bit after 6:00 in the evening. 

I'm wearing the clothes I put on after showering at 5:30 that morning to catch the 5:45 train to Grand Central so I could be at my desk by the 7:00 pick-up of trading from London.

I'm shoulder-to-shoulder with some guy who has sat in the seat next to me on previous occasions.

I'm sweaty from the rush to catch the train. I am desperate to take off my shoes. I am desperate to shower, brush my teeth, and put on a clean cotton T-shirt, jeans, and socks.

The phone in the pocket of the stranger next to me rings. He looks at me and says, "I have to take this."

I don't want to go to jail. I don't want to get fired for assaulting a fellow commuter. This mother f#cker has run this game three times before on me.