The Fucking Kennedy Lady
I live in the suburbs of Boston, MA in the US. From 1984 to 1997 I took the subway to and from work, and 2-3 times a week on my trip home I would encounter the woman I called "The Fucking Kennedy Lady".

She was a thin, elderly, woman always dressed in once-elegant, but now worn and mended, clothes. Clean. No smell, even on a hot summer day when the air conditioning had broken down. She did have one little quirk.

As the train left the station, she would start a little diatribe in a conversational tone of voice:

"I told that fucking Bobby Kennedy. I told him. Don't you touch me fucking Bobby Kennedy. Get away from me fucking Bobby Kennedy."

After a few minutes of this, her false teeth would start to emerge from her mouth and she would begin wrestling them back into place with both hands. It was a mighty struggle for her, but she always managed to subdue them and return to her rant. As the train approached the next station, she would fall silent, starting up again when the train left the station. She didn't flail. She didn't yell. She just ranted about Bobby Kennedy and wrestled with her teeth while remaining inside the space where she was seated.

No matter how crowded the train was, people would move away from her when she started up and the person sitting next to her would vacate their seat. Result!

I would take the free seat and enjoy the comfort of open space in front of me, reading a book while my personal commuter repellant worked to maintain the vacant area for me in the crowded train.
(Wahoo, Fri 28 Sep 2012, 19:49, 3 replies)

I like this
just for the ingenuity of using her to make space for you!
(Petite chien is going to do science to it, Fri 28 Sep 2012, 23:28, closed)

You should have done a Bobby Kennedy impression
just to see what she'd do.
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Mon 1 Oct 2012, 15:30, closed)

I saw someone else try that. No effect. Apparently no intrusions permitted into her private world.

Now the Electron Beam guy who was set off by MIT students using their calculators was particularly perturbed when he went off at one of them and three others drew their calculators, pointed them at him, and started pressing buttons. He screamed and ran to the other end of the train car. He was still screaming when he ran out at the next stop.
(Wahoo, Tue 2 Oct 2012, 19:44, closed)