Sep. 8th, 2009

damselfish: photo by rling (Default)

Another eleven hour day, and all I want to do is get home. The shuttle's running a bit late, so it's crowded when I get on, but no big deal. On one of the stops, a girl who smells like old gym socks sits next to me, squeezing right up to me and pressing her body against mine in a way that is only acceptable on public transportation or between lovers.

Okay. Whatever. People smell sometimes.

Then I notice that my pants are starting to get damp where they're rubbing against her.

Oh no.

Oh. Oh my god, no. Oh sweet mother of Jesus, no!

I had visible blotches of a malodorous stranger's sweat on my favorite pants when I finally escape the shuttle. It was only three minutes or so, how saturated do you have to be to do that? I can't even soak through my own clothes like that after a couple of hours. I don't care how rude it is, next time somebody does that I am standing up and getting out of the way. They can have the seat, sitting down on a bus ride is not worth associating my cute pants with "old gym sock girl" forever.

Public transportation, power to the people, sure, whatever, the people are fucking nasty.

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damselfish: photo by rling (Default)
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