When my stop came, I reached down to grab the bag handles, but couldn't get the umbrella due to the guy standing directly in front of me. Picture me, trying to keep my head up, flailing arm straight down, not being able to look - because if I change the angle of my head forward ... I'm going to be on much better terms with this guy than I care to be. He wouldn't move. He was hoping I'd go face first into Mr. Unhappy. Fortunately for me, the guy beside him needed to get by, which afforded me my means of escape.