What's with the sense of entitlement?

The office didn't open until late this morning. (Super Bowl Sunday was like a holiday here in the greater Chicagoland area.) So I ambled to my el train, bundled up against the cold, headphones on, Monday morning Tribune tucked under my arm.

I settled in to my seat on the rather empty train, prepared to enjoy my tunes and my paper, when a well-dressed man sitting across the aisle kept grinning and pointing. I thought I had dropped one of my enormous mittens, but no, that wasn't it. He wanted to read my paper.

MY PAPER! Which I paid for. Which was just the same as the Tribunes in the vending boxes he passed as he entered the train station.

"No," I said, more than a little taken aback, "I'm reading it."

"But you haven't touched those sections yet."

I'm not making this up. Apparently this complete stranger and I were supposed to share my newspaper because … I can't think of any reason, other than that he wanted to.

"No," I repeated, my patience wearing thin. "I'm reading it."

Another man actually got up and starting walking up the aisle toward me and my Tribune. "She can't read the whole thing at once," he said.

I couldn't believe it! Was I to be assaulted on the el over the special Super Bowl sports section of the Chicago Tribune?

"Leave her alone," the first man said, clearly disgusted with me. This scene is obviously my fault.

"Yes," I said with bravado I didn't feel, "Please. Leave. Me. Alone."

The paper wasn't sold out. (After all, in case you haven't heard, the Bears didn't win.) But even if it was difficult to get -- WHY AM I UNDER ANY OBLIGATION WHATSOEVER TO SHARE MY PAPER WITH STRANGERS??????

Geez! This has annoyed me all day!