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This is a question Public Transport Trauma

Completely Underwhelmed writes, "I was on a bus the other day when a man got on wearing shorts, over what looked like greeny grey leggings. Then the stench hit me. The 'leggings' were a mass of open wounds, crusted with greenish solidified pus that flaked off in bits as he moved."

What's the worst public transport experience you've ever had?

(, Thu 29 May 2008, 15:13)
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Just...no
I was 21yr old newly graduated young chap (that bit's important, as will become horribly clear) working in Glasgow at the time and had a daily 45min bus ride to and from work. One day I got on and the bus was uncommonly busy and the only free seat was on the back row. Of course the back row is normally psycho central and to be avoided at all costs, but with a lack of other options I plonk myself down in the far corner and stick my head in a book only stirring to check out newcomers for care in the community types.

Anyway, 15min or so into the journey the bus stops. I look up as two average looking kids get on. One boy about 8, another around 12. They didn't rate on the nutter scale so I go back to my book. Then I realise they're heading to the back row. Fair enough, I thought-the bus is packed it's probably the only place with two seats close to each other. The squeeze into the now almost full back row, right next to me and again I dive into my book. Along we go, starting and stopping, weaving from side to side and at some point I realise that theres something kind of touching my leg when we go round corners. I glance down and it's this kids hand, just the edge of it, just kind of brushing against the outside of my leg. Not in an overtly weird way really, just the kind of thing you just...don't do. He must have noticed me move or something and he pulls his hand back. Internally berating myself for being over-sensitive and probably embarassing some poor boy for no reason, I ignore it as best I can and go back to my book.

That's when my arse drops well and truly out.

Still looking at my book, but with eyes now wide and heart going like the fucking clappers, I mentally re-check what I think is happening is actually happening.

It is.

I'm sat, on a crowded bus, and this 8 year old BOY is slowly, but surely stroking his hand up and down my thigh. Cue Stewie Griffin slow-head-turn-of-horror as I look at him and the little fucker is staring me full in the face with this horribly blank expression on his face. Not laughing and joking, just blank and kind of unhappy while he continues to stroke my thight. Trying not to make a scene I gripped his wrist - much harder than was probably necessary - and as quietly and with as little fuss as possible forced it away and turn back to the book trying to pretend nothing had happened as that-did-not-just-happen, I-do-not-fucking-believe-that-just-happened style thoughts going through my head over and over again. The kid grabbed his friend and they got off at the next stop.

The awful look on his face haunted me for a long time. It was, and still is without doubt the most disturbing thing ever to happen to me.

I don't ride the bus any more.
(, Thu 29 May 2008, 21:15, 1 reply)
And I bet the police believed you :p

(, Thu 29 May 2008, 23:07, closed)

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