I was on the Greyhound bus going from NYC to upstate NY, and my seat's right armrest was folded down. I tried pulling it up, but it wouldn't budge. I got frustrated, and the guy behind me helped me out by telling me to pull it out, then up. It worked. "Thanks, I like to have an armrest", I told him.
Perhaps he would have liked to have an armrest too, but it would be of no use to him. See, it just happened that the guy who helped me didn't have a whole arm, only half of one. Oh god, I was so embarassed to notice this. What saved me was that the half of the arm he did have was covered with tattoos, so I asked him if I could look at them. We had a short conversation about tats, and I felt better.
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