The fluids and vapours that emanate from fellow commuters do not overly concern me. It is merely a trifle to be dealt with when one prefers public transportation to the wasteful and stressful use of a private car. I unconsciously avoid the effluence of my fellow citizens and their pets in a sidewalk slalom where flags are replaced by dog turds and blood and/or vomit1. Upon embarking on a full bus and finding myself nose to pit with a person who prefers to scrub with dead woodland creatures rather than a loofa, I take a deep sideways breath from the mouth and pray I can retain consciousness until the individual alights. I even abide with stoic resignation the ever present scent of ‘eau de pisse’ that the senile set use as perfume.
Today my resolve was sincerely tested when it came time to push the ‘stop requested’ button, I found it completely obfuscated by another human’s buttocks. The said button is placed on a vertical bar easily reached from your seat. This man’s tracksuit clad and ample posterior completely engulfed the button as well as nearly eclipsed the yellow bar as well. Conjecture of how this man could ignore or worse still purposefully put this uncomfortable foreign body in such a place have disturbed me all day. Luckily, someone else requested the stop from somewhere else.
1) An interesting detective game you can play is to follow the trail of dried blood drops usually starting at the doorstep of a pub and ending in a constellation of drops where I assume the man with the busted lip waited for a taxi or conferred with his friends on just how much that guy who punched him was a dick.