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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(Repeated) Vom on the 207.
Tottenham Court Road to Ealing (about an hour to go about 12 miles) 3am.
Usually full of happy drunks, and the occasional slightly threatening but generally not violent post-club skinheads.
THIS time, already nursing strangely premature hangover, I sit downstairs, near to someone passed out in the corner (not a strange occurance at that time of night).
Half way through the journey he starts shouting, still unconcious: 'Nooooo!' 'Nahhh!!', and proceeds to battle whatever the seat in front had manifested itself as in his nightmares. This carries on intermittently for about half an hour, then he returns to relative slumber.
Thinking, at this point 'I'm glad I'm not in whatever scary, brain-addled place he's at, someone else chunders all over the floor in front of me. Sits back, apparently calm and lucid, waits for 10 mins (and three stops) and DOES IT AGAIN.
You Vomit. You Get off. Simple as that.
Don't just carry on adding to your pool of sticky orange goo. That's. Not. Cool.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 21:42, Reply)
Tottenham Court Road to Ealing (about an hour to go about 12 miles) 3am.
Usually full of happy drunks, and the occasional slightly threatening but generally not violent post-club skinheads.
THIS time, already nursing strangely premature hangover, I sit downstairs, near to someone passed out in the corner (not a strange occurance at that time of night).
Half way through the journey he starts shouting, still unconcious: 'Nooooo!' 'Nahhh!!', and proceeds to battle whatever the seat in front had manifested itself as in his nightmares. This carries on intermittently for about half an hour, then he returns to relative slumber.
Thinking, at this point 'I'm glad I'm not in whatever scary, brain-addled place he's at, someone else chunders all over the floor in front of me. Sits back, apparently calm and lucid, waits for 10 mins (and three stops) and DOES IT AGAIN.
You Vomit. You Get off. Simple as that.
Don't just carry on adding to your pool of sticky orange goo. That's. Not. Cool.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 21:42, Reply)
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