I roll my eyes and walk past him.
"You think you're too good for me, ah? You think you're too hot for me!"
The man; short, shorter than me in my heels, Hispanic, slick hair.
He turns to his friend. "She thinks she's too hot for me!"
I walk through the barrier.
"You're nada! Nada!" He yells, at my back.
I think briefly on what I will do if they appear on the platform. My train arrives, I abandon my grimace of distaste and start to snigger into the high collar of my coat.