Public Transport Issue

I commute up to 3-4 hours a day, 4 days a week for my MA program, which is based in a nearby city. This means I’m often on trains/trams/buses very early – like 5:45 AM – or very late. These two incidents happened over the last month, both on the train:

1). Early morning train. Four (I think) guys got into a fight. Really loud, screaming at each other and swinging punches. One conductor on the train, so it inevitably takes him a while to get there. The woman sitting opposite me stands up to film them on her phone. They notice, and come storming down the very narrow aisle to scream and her, me, and another woman beside me that we are fucking ugly sluts, bitches, cunts, etc. I was wearing a baseball cap, so I think one of the guys couldn’t see my face. He leaned in really close, blocking me into the seat, and asked, “You fucking listening, slut?” I did the only thing I could think of, which was tilt my head up slightly so he could see my eyes, and nodded.

The situation was diffused when the conductor arrived – funny, how their confidence waned when they had a guy bigger than them telling them to calm down – and they were escorted off at the next station and met by security.

2). Train going home. The carriage starts emptying, as is normal, as the train goes through several stations. This one guy keeps standing the whole time (that’s not the problem, but it was noticeable). He’s also moving around a lot, a bit jittery. He then leans against the wall, pulls a housing brochure out of his bag and starts reading it. Fine. He then pulls out a big pair of scissors and slices the brochure up. Less fine. He’s also blocking the aisle between me and the door, so at this point I’m deciding whether it’s worth trying to get past him or just stay there.

He puts the scissors away. Turns around a few times, looks at me – I was on my own by then in a group of 4 seats – and says, “You a boy or a girl?” What I was wearing is irrelevant, but I am a cisgender woman. I wasn’t sure where this was going at all and starting to get worried, so I said, “…Girl.” He grins, nods, then palms his crotch a few times – he wasn’t exactly soft down there – turns around and wanders up the aisle to go to the bathroom. I wanted to shower in bleach. I did mention the encounter to the conductor, but of course, there was little they could do.