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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Tube of doom
On the tube from Kings Cross, about 7pm on a Friday, prime time for the guys who have been down the pub since lunchtime to think about moving.
Bloke in a cheap suit gets on, clearly the worse for wear. It becomes quickly obvious to all in a ten metre radius that eight pints of gassy lager and an ill-advised kebab are about to make a sudden reappearance. The guy is holding on for dear life, staring at the door, willing the train to stop so he can run and puke somewhere more discrete (don't you love drinkers with class?). But....as the train slows down at Russell Square, it stops but the doors don't open. The train starts to move again.....and now our hero can't hold it, and out it comes. Fucking everywhere......
Being English, no-one says anything, and as the train pulls into Holborn, he does a runner, leaving about 40 people pretending that there isn't a pile of puke all over the floor and/or their trousers.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 18:52, 1 reply)
On the tube from Kings Cross, about 7pm on a Friday, prime time for the guys who have been down the pub since lunchtime to think about moving.
Bloke in a cheap suit gets on, clearly the worse for wear. It becomes quickly obvious to all in a ten metre radius that eight pints of gassy lager and an ill-advised kebab are about to make a sudden reappearance. The guy is holding on for dear life, staring at the door, willing the train to stop so he can run and puke somewhere more discrete (don't you love drinkers with class?). But....as the train slows down at Russell Square, it stops but the doors don't open. The train starts to move again.....and now our hero can't hold it, and out it comes. Fucking everywhere......
Being English, no-one says anything, and as the train pulls into Holborn, he does a runner, leaving about 40 people pretending that there isn't a pile of puke all over the floor and/or their trousers.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 18:52, 1 reply)
Have a click
for the pure, unadulterated Englishness of that response.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 23:19, closed)
for the pure, unadulterated Englishness of that response.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 23:19, closed)
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