Just when you thought the morning commute couldn't get worse
Warning: This story in not for the faint-of-heart.
The 4 train was crowded as usual this morning, but I decided that there was just enough room for me to squeeze on. Of course this meant that about six more people pushed in behind me. I couldn't budge an inch.
That's when I noticed the smell. It was a combination of Cheez-Its and feet. It was either coming from the scalp of the short woman standing directly in front of me and an inch and a half from my nose or from the arm pit four inches to the left of my nose. I tried turning my head, but that didn't help. Great. How far is it to the next stop? Much too far.
And it got worse.
At about that point in my mental game of "where is in the hell is that smell coming from?", I distinctly felt something, um, stiffen against my back. It belonged to the man with the outstretched arm and possibly smelly arm pit. I had no where to run. I had nowhere to hide. There was no way even for me to strategically place my bag in between me and the object in question. I just tried not to think about it, just like I avoided thinking about how the metal pole I was holding onto was teaming with germs. Then it was pressed into my back. I tried edging forward into the short woman to avoid it. It was pressed into my back. I tried edging to the right. It was pressed into my back. Please, please just let us get to the next stop. If I wasn't on an express train, I wouldn't have to put up with this so long. Would this be as gross if I could see more than just a disembodied arm? Yes, it probably would.
We finally arrived at 59th Street. People started shifting to left other passengers off the train. I jumped forward and pushed my way around the short, possibly smelly woman. She would make a good buffer zone. I caught a glimpse of the man as he turned and ran off the train. That's right, buddy, you better run.
Luckily, the train emptied out enough that I had a nice personal space bubble for the rest of the ride. I also solved the mystery of the Cheez-It smell. It had to be the woman because I smelled it all the way to Union Square. I got to work still wishing I had some sort of powerful disinfectant stashed in my desk some where.
Now that I have told this story, I'm going to start trying to repress the experience. Good night.
Warning: This story in not for the faint-of-heart.
The 4 train was crowded as usual this morning, but I decided that there was just enough room for me to squeeze on. Of course this meant that about six more people pushed in behind me. I couldn't budge an inch.
That's when I noticed the smell. It was a combination of Cheez-Its and feet. It was either coming from the scalp of the short woman standing directly in front of me and an inch and a half from my nose or from the arm pit four inches to the left of my nose. I tried turning my head, but that didn't help. Great. How far is it to the next stop? Much too far.
And it got worse.
At about that point in my mental game of "where is in the hell is that smell coming from?", I distinctly felt something, um, stiffen against my back. It belonged to the man with the outstretched arm and possibly smelly arm pit. I had no where to run. I had nowhere to hide. There was no way even for me to strategically place my bag in between me and the object in question. I just tried not to think about it, just like I avoided thinking about how the metal pole I was holding onto was teaming with germs. Then it was pressed into my back. I tried edging forward into the short woman to avoid it. It was pressed into my back. I tried edging to the right. It was pressed into my back. Please, please just let us get to the next stop. If I wasn't on an express train, I wouldn't have to put up with this so long. Would this be as gross if I could see more than just a disembodied arm? Yes, it probably would.
We finally arrived at 59th Street. People started shifting to left other passengers off the train. I jumped forward and pushed my way around the short, possibly smelly woman. She would make a good buffer zone. I caught a glimpse of the man as he turned and ran off the train. That's right, buddy, you better run.
Luckily, the train emptied out enough that I had a nice personal space bubble for the rest of the ride. I also solved the mystery of the Cheez-It smell. It had to be the woman because I smelled it all the way to Union Square. I got to work still wishing I had some sort of powerful disinfectant stashed in my desk some where.
Now that I have told this story, I'm going to start trying to repress the experience. Good night.
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