{"id":88828,"date":"2015-08-14T14:30:37","date_gmt":"2015-08-14T18:30:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=88828"},"modified":"2015-08-14T13:42:58","modified_gmt":"2015-08-14T17:42:58","slug":"we-are-all-sensitive-people","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/08\/14\/we-are-all-sensitive-people\/","title":{"rendered":"We Are All Sensitive People"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

From the cover of Let\u2019s Get It On<\/i>.<\/p><\/div>\n

On an uptown local train during the height of an August rush hour, an old man fell asleep in his seat. It should be said that the man in question probably believed his music was contained; he was wearing earbuds. But either he\u2019d neglected to properly plug the headphones into the outlet or the mechanism was somewhat faulty. Because for whatever reason, \u201cLet\u2019s Get It On\u201d started blasting loudly in the otherwise quiet car.<\/p>\n

The average urbanite sees a few things in a lifetime of public transit. Kids fighting. Women screaming. Perverts perving. Madmen ranting violently. And the occasional eel, escaped from a shopping bag, writhing wildly down the length of a J-train car. On one occasion, a seven-foot schizophrenic caked in filth spent the better part of an uptown express trip berating a woman whom he claimed had grabbed his ass, threatening to turn her into the transit cops for sexual harassment.<\/p>\n

And yet, I have never seen a trainful of passengers more uncomfortable than in the moment when the first four insinuating notes started to play, and Marvin Gaye\u2019s sensuous, passion-roughened voice filled the car. <\/p>\n

\n

I\u2019ve been really tryin\u2019, baby
Tryin\u2019 to hold back this feeling for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then, c\u2019mon, oh, c\u2019mon, woo<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

The old man was asleep. As for the rest of us, we tried not to meet each other\u2019s eyes. Young, old, mom, hobo, man, woman, and teen\u2014everyone was acutely embarrassed.<\/p>\n

\n

Let\u2019s get it on, ah baby
Ah, baby, let\u2019s get it on
Let\u2019s love, baby
Let\u2019s get it on, sugar
Let\u2019s get it on, woo hoo<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Often in silly public situations, there is some complicity. People grin wryly and roll their eyes and twinkle at each other in solidarity. Not so here. The enforced intimacy of the situation, the sudden sexualization of our determinedly unphysical proximity, struck at something fundamental. A few people listened to their headphones and pretended they couldn\u2019t hear. Others buried faces in their books. The German tourist sitting next to the sleeping DJ looked particularly horrified.<\/p>\n

\n

There\u2019s nothing wrong with me
Loving you, baby no no
And giving yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true, oh baby woo ooo<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I had never realized just how long that song is. It lasted four stops. One brave guy finally tried to ease the tension by saying, \u201cHey, it\u2019s better than what I\u2019m listening to! They should play Marvin Gaye at rush hour all the time!\u201d A<\/em> for effort, but it fell miserably flat.<\/p>\n

The old man only jolted awake when the song ended and \u201cSmiling Faces Sometimes\u201d came on. Then he left the car.<\/p>\n

No one could even laugh. It was almost as bad as the time that schizophrenic claimed I\u2019d grabbed his ass.<\/p>\n

Sadie Stein is contributing editor of <\/em>The Paris Review, and the <\/em>Daily\u2019s correspondent.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On an uptown local train during the height of an August rush hour, an old man fell asleep in his seat. It should be said that the man in question probably believed his music was contained; he was wearing earbuds. But either he\u2019d neglected to properly plug the headphones into the outlet or the mechanism […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13115],"tags":[19157,12511,19156,12569,46,125,607],"class_list":["post-88828","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-daily-correspondent","tag-awkward-situations","tag-city-life","tag-lets-get-it-on","tag-marvin-gaye","tag-music","tag-new-york-city","tag-subway"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nWe Are All Sensitive People: A Marvin Gaye Story<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Sadie Stein on what happens when \u201cLet\u2019s Get It On\u201d is blaring in a subway car.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/08\/14\/we-are-all-sensitive-people\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"We Are All Sensitive People by Sadie Stein\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"August 14, 2015 \u2013 On an uptown local train during the height of an August rush hour, an old man fell asleep in his seat. 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