Once again this morning I was reminded of a fact that I can’t quite fit into my world view. I dress in clean clothes, I bathe every day, I do my best to present a pleasant (or at least neutral) demeanor, I lack disfiguring scars and tattoos and piercings, I use deodorant, I don’t take up that much space. So why is it that nobody wants to sit next to me on the bus or train?

This morning, for instance, two people in a row stopped at my bench on the MAX, crouched a bit as if they were about to sit down, then apparently thought better of it and moved on. Most of the time on the bus, if I happen to be on the last bench with a free seat inside the entire vehicle, it’ll remain unoccupied while people stand in the aisle. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember.

What gives, Portland? Why don’t you want to sit next to me? I don’t bite. Honest.

(For the record, I don’t mind having elbow room. I just feel bloody damned conspicuous as the only person on the vehicle who’s sitting alone.)

The highlight of the weekend just gone by was spending some time at one of the local “laser tag” emporiums, Ultrazone down in Milwaukie, to celebrate the kids’ birthdays. (It was sort of a joint party, one a few days late and the other a month or so early.) After a bit of cake, ice cream and soda we all trooped into the blacklit arena and zapped one another with laser beams.

Originally the teams were going to be Boys Versus Girls, but a gender imbalance meant that it became instead a Boys Versus Girls And Grownups affair. (The alternative implication is that I spent part of the afternoon as an honorary girl. Pish.) The G-and-G team chose the red equipment both times around, and we stuck with the same suit numbers as well.

Something Ultrazone changed since the last time I played there is that the three available sets of equipment have themed character names assigned. Our first round consisted of Spider-Man Characters versus Autobots And Decepticons, and the other game added Star Wars Characters to the mix. (Ultrazone threw in another small group who wouldn’t have been able to muster enough for two teams and their own round otherwise. We didn’t mind much, as there’s nothing quite like a target-rich environment to make things interesting.)

We all had fun, nobody got hurt, and I was pleasantly surprised by the improvement in my scoring ability since my last visit years ago. In both games I took a commanding lead on the scoreboard, helping (but certainly not carrying) my team to victory. There’s also something to be said for being on a team in which everyone’s very good about avoiding friendly-fire.

Hey, being the top dog (or hobgoblin, if you prefer) earned me two free game coupons, so I suppose that counts for something. Right? More importantly, of course, I had the chance to say “neener neener” to my kids.

I’m fairly certain that’s in the job description for fatherhood. Trust me.