64 Bus to Central Sq. Red faced asshole in a grey suit.

There are certain things that each of us learns while in grade school.  I know you went to grade school because you were claiming that you did while using your “outside voice” while “inside” the bus.  Normally, I would let one or two of your public transportation transgressions slide.  Everyone deserves the right to act like a dick on occasion.  ON OCCASION.  YOU, on the other hand, managed to violate every safety/ courtesy/ grade school bus rule on the fucking planet.   I shall take the time to list them for you:

Face forward in your seat:  While you were chattering away facing into the aisle, sitting in a seat that faces forward, I counted no less than twelve people trying to get past your smarmy ass to the back of the bus.  You didn’t say exuse me, you didn’t move, you just tripped them (myself included) and let them go by without a sorry about that.

Keep feet and parcels off the seat:  While you were chattering away and facing into the aisle, your feet were crossing the aisle and planted on your friends seat across the way.  This blocks the progress of anyone and everyone that needs to get to and from the exit, in front of which, you strategically planted yourself.  Fuck you!

Use your “inside voice”:  While you were proclaiming to God and everybody, your reason for being on the bus today, I saw not one or two but four people ask you to lower your voice.  What did you do?  Nothing, you didn’t even acknowledge their presence.  You completely ignored the fact that there were folks who wanted to hate being on public transportation in silence.  Instead they had to hate being there, while you were there too.  Fuck you!

I could go on all day sir.  You ruined the bus ride for myself and several others, and all because you couldn’t lay off the sauce while driving, yeah I picked up that one while you were nattering your buddies ear off as well.  So I’d like to congratulate you one being the biggest fucktard I’ve encountered in quite some time.  Thank you for being the red-faced-asshole in the grey suit.  Without you my day would have started pleasantly and I wouldn’t have had anything to write about today.

What is under all that cologne?

What is under all that cologne? (Red Line Cambridge)

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Reply to: pers-c3uhz-1150984501@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}
Date: 2009-05-02, 1:44PM EDT

Every morning I ride the red line. Every morning it’s the same damn thing. The train pulls up, the doors woosh open, and the smell of a hundred cologne dipped bodies wafts it’s way on to the platform. I have to fight my way through the miasma of conflicting scents to get to a seat. Talc, musk, flower, pheromone stench seeps its way into my pores and sticks to my clothes. The smell is almost intoxicating, as I ride through seven stops of stinky on my way to work. I finally get to my destination, relieved that I no longer have to smell the warring oral factory personalities on the train. What a relief. Isn’t it odd that I’d rather smell the stench of Boston at low tide, than the red line on Monday morning?  What are you hiding that you need to cover it under all that cologne?  Are you some kind of stinky human hybrid?  One that needs to mask it’s scent with a good dousing a Stetson?  Did you forget to shower this morning and thus, must cover your body odor?  What exactly is under all that cologne?

• Location: Red Line Cambridge
• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1150984501

Flatulence on the Silver Line

Flatulence on the Silver Line (World Trade Center Stop)

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Reply to: pers-7rwzm-1150940835@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}
Date: 2009-05-02, 1:19PM EDT

*Sniff*…*Sniff* Something smells funny in here… It takes a while for my sleep fogged brain to catch up as I’m riding the Silver Line bus to the World Trade Center stop. I was in that place between waking and sleeping, my head being rhythmically bounced against the window. *Sniff* No longer is the smell funny, it is most unfunny. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in rich neighborhoods where they can afford to throw out a lot of meat. But the smell on that bus was identical to the smell of rotting meat.

My God! The smell has intensified, I can tell by the looks on the faces of those around me that they can smell it to. I start looking about to see if I can find the guilty party. No one wants to mention the smell, to do so would be to automatically assign blame, as the old maxim goes, “He who smelt it dealt it.” The rest of the bus riders are more noticeably uncomfortable, they too are seeking the stinky party. My gaze lights on a young Asian American woman seated about two rows back. She’s the only one not looking around, and the only one not holding her nose! There! I have found her, the person who smells like something crawled up her ass and died! It must be her! She’s not making a face because farts don’t smell bad to the person who expelled them. I refused to believe that she just had a stuffy nose.

By this point people are pressing against the doors in anticipation of vacating the bus upon it’s arrival at the stop. The bus pulls into the station and the doors open, letting in a blast of amazingly fresh air. I thankfully take a deep breath and debark from the Silver line. Looking back into the bus, I see a large pile of shit…. Possibly human…. The phantom pooper strikes again!

**Disclaimer, some of these stories may or may not be true, could or could not have occurred, at some time, or no time. All stories by YourBeard are solely owned by YourBeard and are not to be used for your own nefarious purposes**

• Location: World Trade Center Stop
• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1150940835