Let me preface this by saying that I have lived in New York City for nearly all of my adult life and have never experienced anything like this, ever. Carry on.

For those 10 (and I’m being generous) of you who read this regularly, or follow me on Twitter, know that I have an amazing assistant, Tiny Hussy, who also happens to be my offspring. Though barely 5, Tiny Hussy has a great deal of composure. She pretty much has her wits about her and behaves better than most grown folks in public places. In fact, I’ve been complemented (a lot!) by random adults of all races and backgrounds on how well comported she is.

So imagine my surprise on Wednesday, July 1st while riding the Brooklyn-bound A-train during early evening rush hour, when I hear an adult gruffly say to my child “don’t touch me!” Awww, hell.

Let me back up for a moment.

Anyone who has ridden the A train knows that there are seats that are back-to-back. When TH and I got on the train, there were no seats together and I asked her if she was comfortable sitting behind me. She was cool with it, so I sat sideways in my seat with my arm across her chest as if it were a seatbelt. I wouldn’t want all 42 pounds of her to go flying or someone thinking she was by herself.

We rode for about 15 minutes with TH happily enjoying herself, even smiling and laughing with a few passengers. I turn around to grab something out of my bag for her and that’s when I heard it. “DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!” My neck snapped around and saw a white woman in her late 30′s early 40′s looking down at my baby and glaring at her. Yes, I mentioned race, because it always matters.

I happened to be recovering from a bout of laryngitis, but Jesus, being the Light and Redeemer He is, granted me my voice for a few minutes at which point, I yelled  “Who the hell are you talking to? You had better not be speaking to my child in that manner. It’s obvious that there is an adult present and you need to address me!”

At that point, the train, which was occupied by about 90% brown people, went silent. Yes, race and ethnicity matter, so I am mentioning it…again. She smugly said “Well, she touched me.”

Again, Jesus being the Fence that HE is cleared my mind of all thoughts, except for two: the scene in The Color Purple where Sophia yells “Get my children out of here!” before punching the mayor’s wife and the scene where she gets out of jail many years later.

I then looked the woman straight in the eye and said, in a very gentle manner “If you have a problem being inadvertently touched by a child on the A train, in New York, during rush hour, then perhaps it would be wise for you to purchase a car or better yet, move out of the city altogether. And, if you even think of saying another word to my child, I will kick your ass and claim self defense, do you understand what I am saying?”

Blank stare.

Anyone who actually knows me would tell you that if this were just a few years ago, I would have said absolutely nothing and wiped the train up with the broad, but I have grown, thank you.

Most people would have moved to another part of the train, or at least backed away, but no this woman obviously wanted more. She had the muthaloving nerve audacity to ask me to move my child so that she could sit down. Yes, you read that correctly. Then she went on to say how its the law that I hold my child on her lap.

At this point, the aisle on the train began to part. It was like Charlton Heston Moses parting the Red Sea. Folks started squeezing into corners and averting their eyes.

Again, the Lord protected me this time as I stood up and came to within a couple inches of her face and said for all to hear “Your heightened sense of entitlement and privilege is going to land you in intensive care. How dare you even suggest that I remove my child from her seat so that your ass can sit down! Get away from me because at this point, I consider this race-based harassment and I will do whatever I need to do to protect my child even if it means taking your life.”

Mind you, this entire episode lasted only about 5 minutes, but by the time I had stood up, several black males (young and old) had gotten up to a) make sure I didn’t bust her in the face; and b) give me the space to sit TH down next to me.

With TH happily sitting up under my armpit eating raisins and the woman in a seat further down the car, we made it safely to our destination and wound up having a great time, but not before having several conversations with some folks on the train about he state of race relations and how we (as black folks) have to do better for one another.

What would you have done?

Note: All references to Jesus and the Lord are not me proselytizing in any way, shape, or form, but he really is there when you need him.