Your precious bag.

You may hate my bluntness, Mr. "My Bag Needs a Seat," guy, but in all honesty when you have a train full of people, you put your damn bag on the floor in front of you (or in your lap).

You harumphed when I asked you to move it for the older lady standing up, but to hell with you. I overlook the fact that you are probably nineteen years old and don't have a single clue what life is about yet. Pull out your earbuds, push that foppish hair-don't out of your face and either stand up and offer your seat, or move your damn bag.

My words, "Hey. Move your backpack man," were the nicest I could come up with.  You'll get over it eventually. Trust me.