So every trial and tribulation I have endured surrounding taking mass transit as of late was trumped last night by the bravest person I know: my friend Shaun. His story is filled with such sheer horror that I feel compelled to write it down even as a third party right now so that I can look back to this whenever I think something unimaginably revolting has just happened to me or near me or somewhere in the general tri-state area. What is the worst, most vile, terrifying thing that you can imagine happening to you on a bus ride home?
Being shot would be fast. Peeing in your pants? I cant judge, I was moments away about two months ago. Give up?
Painting the picture... Shaun is sitting on his chosen seat, facing forward, minutes from his turn to reach up and push his stop button. Ear buds in, Droid in his hand, thinking about what he will eat for dinner hungrily... And then a man stands up in the aisle near you, with ample floor room in front and behind him. This man is even holding a coat. And this man proceeds to throw up all over- Shaun! On his head, in his clothes, in-between the cracks in his phone and through all of his many backpack pockets. That is right, folks- some strange man's internal bodily fluids were soaking into my friend's skin. And the man's apology? A stunned, silent stand still. The woman behind Shaun, who received more of a light spraying, took the lead in vocalizing what I can only imagine to be sheer repulsion be demanding he get off the bus for his own sake.
The bright side? The woman behind Shaun yelled out, "I don't wash my hair!"
"They" say when a bird poops on you, it is a sign of good luck. So when a man pukes on you, on the eve of your birthday, does that mean you should be playing the lottery today? Or getting vaccinated?