The Waist-Touching Incident

"You touched my waist!"

This sentence was like a bomb, instantly detonating the crowded subway car.

The speaker was a young woman, dressed stylishly, with delicate features, but her face was flushed with anger.

The person accused was a middle-aged man, dressed plainly, with some gray in his hair, holding a vegetable basket, and now he was looking at the woman in front of him with a blank expression, as if he had no idea what had happened.

"I...I didn't." The middle-aged man stammered in defense, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"You're still trying to deny it! I clearly felt your hand touch my waist!" The woman's voice was even sharper, attracting the attention of more passengers.

The surrounding passengers began to whisper, some pointing fingers at the middle-aged man, others urging the woman to calm down.

The subway car had instantly turned into a miniature courtroom.

"Touching the waist is a very serious form of sexual harassment nowadays! He must be severely punished!" A man in a suit said righteously.

"That's right, people like that should be arrested!" A young girl echoed.

The middle-aged man was trembling with fear from the accusations. He tried to explain, but found that he couldn't express himself at all. He was just trying to stand firm in the crowded space, and he didn't even notice that he had bumped into anyone.

"Everyone, everyone, please let me say something." A young man wearing glasses stood up, holding a small booklet in his hand. "According to the latest 'Public Transportation Behavior Guidelines,' physical contact is inevitable in crowded environments, but..."

He flipped open the booklet and cleared his throat, "...but if it involves sensitive areas such as the waist, it is necessary to conduct a standardized 'physical contact assessment.' The parties involved can apply to the relevant authorities for a 'haptic backtrack' to determine whether it constitutes a violation."

Silence fell in the car.

"What is a 'haptic backtrack'?" An elderly woman asked doubtfully.

"'Haptic backtrack' is to use the latest technology to recreate the tactile experience at the time, and then, according to relevant regulations, to determine whether it constitutes a violation," the bespectacled man explained, with a professional tone.

Then, he took out a small device, shaped like an enlarged Band-Aid, from his backpack and handed it to the woman, "Hello, ma'am, please stick this 'haptic backtrack device' on the area where you were touched, and we will immediately begin the 'haptic backtrack'."

The woman paused, took the "haptic backtrack device," and then carefully stuck it on her waist.

"Now, please wait a moment, the 'haptic backtrack' is in progress." After the bespectacled man finished speaking, the car fell silent again.

A few minutes later, the "haptic backtrack device" made a "beep" sound.

The bespectacled man picked up a tablet and reviewed the "haptic backtrack" data report.

"According to the results of the 'haptic backtrack,' this gentleman's hand did indeed touch this lady's waist, but the force of the touch was only 0.02 Newtons, which is classified as 'minor contact' and does not constitute a violation," the bespectacled man announced.

The woman was stunned, and the surrounding passengers were also discussing the matter.

"How can that be? I clearly felt it very distinctly!" The woman said with dissatisfaction.

The bespectacled man shrugged his shoulders, "This is the result of technology, the data does not lie."

The middle-aged man breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had narrowly escaped death.

At this moment, the subway suddenly reached the station, the doors opened, and the crowd surged out.

The bespectacled man packed up the "haptic backtrack device," and said to the passengers in the car: "Everyone, please abide by the 'Public Transportation Behavior Guidelines,' maintain a proper social distance, and if you encounter any problems, please apply for a 'haptic backtrack' in a timely manner, thank you for your cooperation."

People got off the train one after another, leaving behind the middle-aged man and the woman, who stood facing each other in the empty car.

The woman's face turned from flushed to pale, and she suddenly felt that she had done something ridiculous.

The middle-aged man silently gathered the vegetables scattered on the ground, and then silently got off the train.

The subway continued to move forward, as if nothing had happened.

That evening, when the middle-aged man returned home, he found that all the vegetables he had bought that day had gone bad. His sense of touch had not "backtracked." He just felt like a fool, in a crowded society, not even knowing who he had bumped into, nor who to blame.