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Transit Troubles
I am a nice person. By GOD I am a nice person, to a fault, and it takes a lot for something to get to me (unless I'm tired or caffeine deficient, but that's another story). I can deal with Public Transit with aboslutely no problem! I have to deal with public transit considering that I am a poor college student and I live more than an hour away from my school. I can deal with your nasty ass morning breath because you didn't have time to brush your teeth, I can deal with your NASTIER B.O. because you slept in and didn't shower, I can EVEN deal with the fact that you, with both these afflictions, are less than an inch away from me.
What I can't deal with is, when during rush hour, and I'm all crammed up against this sweaty, smelly dude who thinks he's God's gift because he's got a Globe and Mail and a suit, YOU, my friend... oh you, you think that you deserve a bubble of personal space, not only for you, but your ugly ass little TNA bag. You moan and bitch when the train jerks and someone bumps into you (while SEATED), and stretch out more and make sure no one so much as LOOKS at your bag... while it has it's OWN SEAT!
I can not MOVE, and I can not BREATHE... Trust me, I do NOT care if your D&G sunglasses are in your bag. ...It's February and overcast. I am sitting the hell down.
