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)
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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Bad got better
Travelling across Europe to spend a year as a German assistant, I had missed my connection so ended up utterly alone, sitting staring at a huge map of Europe wondering which country I was even crossing, it was the middle of the night, I had no hotel booked, no idea where I should get off, only a copy of the Naked Lunch for company, given to me by my rather bizarre boyfriend of the time who I also wouldn't see for the next year. I sat crying, and wishing I'd paid more attention in geography.
Then the guard appeared. He was called Jean-Yves, and was clearly an angel in disguise. He told me it was not right that pretty women should be sitting crying on his train, dried my tears, gave me directions, a roll-up and a can of beer. I still remember him, what a nice guy. He restored my faith in humanity that night.
( , Fri 30 May 2008, 23:16, Reply)
Travelling across Europe to spend a year as a German assistant, I had missed my connection so ended up utterly alone, sitting staring at a huge map of Europe wondering which country I was even crossing, it was the middle of the night, I had no hotel booked, no idea where I should get off, only a copy of the Naked Lunch for company, given to me by my rather bizarre boyfriend of the time who I also wouldn't see for the next year. I sat crying, and wishing I'd paid more attention in geography.
Then the guard appeared. He was called Jean-Yves, and was clearly an angel in disguise. He told me it was not right that pretty women should be sitting crying on his train, dried my tears, gave me directions, a roll-up and a can of beer. I still remember him, what a nice guy. He restored my faith in humanity that night.
( , Fri 30 May 2008, 23:16, Reply)
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