Mr.Grinch and his nose

I just call him “Grinch”.
Actually, I have never spoken to him or about him to anyone but whenever I see him I think “Grinch”.
Mr. Grinch is a portly Indian gentleman who boards the train from San Francisco and gets down at Union City.
The reason for my dislike for him is twofold. One - he is very loud when he talks to some of his friends (who are tolerable) but Two – and this is a tipping point, he is a seasoned Nasal Archaeologist. Whenever I see him he has his right index finger lodged firmly in his nose only to come out once in a while to inspect his find, rub it off and go to the other nostril in search of God knows what.
I tend to avoid looking at him and busy myself with my laptop or some book that I am reading, but it is something about him that whenever I look up, my gaze floats towards him.

Today something happened that enforced my disgust for him but also brought to light social gimmickry that almost everyone involves in once in a while.

There are seats by the doors of the car which are supposed to be vacated for elderly or disabled. Mr. Grinch firmly established himself in one of those. The train began to get crowded and by the time it reached Oakland it was already packed.
Mr. Grinch pulled out a newspaper and hid himself behind it. (Thankfully for me his nasal quest stopped as he was holding the paper with both hands).
Now I could see his eyes from the corner and whenever people boarded the train he raised the paper high enough to pretend to not see them, should some elderly enter the car. The idea being - “If I haven’t seen anyone then I am ignorant and will keep my heinie rested”

As luck would have it an elderly lady did board the train, she looked around, and Mr. Grinch raised his newspaper as if he was in a sailboat catching the wind. Just then another guy got up and offered the lady a (non-designated) seat. Thankfully, it was another Indian guy.
Mr. Grinch appeared startled, had a clumsy embarrassed look on his face, and looked around from left to right. No one noticed it except me and his eyes met mine. I was about 10 seats away from the incident but I narrowed my gaze and looked down upon him with a frown.
Mr. Grinch instinctively put the news paper down and found his nose with his fat fingers, as an infant sucks on his thumb to soothe himself.
That worked for him, I looked away.