Remember when I told y’all about the horrible LA traffic and how it led to discovering the asinine advice that Steve Harvey is giving to women and the confusion (from LA radio stations) about whether or not TSwift counts as hip-hop? (She doesn’t!)
Well, it also led to terrible road rage.
This was me most mornings:
I mean… I know a
large limited amount of curse words and I used all of them. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
So I was more than thrilled to find out that there was a bus line from my apartment to my job. Clearly this was the solution to my problems. I could nap on my way to work, not spend as much money on gas and let someone else worry about the stupidity of LA drivers.
Yeah….turns out there are some..ahem…shall we say characters on public transit. It’s extremely rare that I don’t get off the bus thinking:
From the White lady who kept yelling that she could be racist too (I must have missed the racism Olympics that day but apparently there was some stiff competition), to the guy who is offended that you think he shouldn’t take up three seats with his bags; this bus offers a variety of distractions from the mundane ride.
Last week, the bus offered some quality…hum… there are really no words to describe it. Let’s just say that it was a visual, auditory but most of all, olfactory experience.
I got off work after a pretty long day and was more than happy to see the bus pull up, right as I got to the stop. I took out my bus card, swiped it and smiled at the bus driver. I scanned the bus but there was only one seat available, near the front. I slid in the seat and nodded quickly at the guy sitting next to me.
After a few seconds, I started to get a whiff of an unpleasant odor. It was still faint so I didn’t worry about it. A few seconds later, smell was getting stronger. After a minute, it was straight up “funk town”.
Now I can’t lie and say that I’ve never forgotten to put deodorant on before heading to work. When that happens, I usually go full-on T-rex for the day and try not to move too much. Y’all know what I’m talking about. When you can’t lift your arms past a 90 degree angle because you’re afraid you might knock someone out with that natural musk?
You know..like this:
So I tried to do the subtle armpit check to see if I was the source of such a pungent smell.
Ok girl! Pretend you’re waving at someone. Oh no, I don’t think they can see you. Raise your arm a little bit higher and wave harder. Turn your head, like you’re smiling at them because the bus is driving away. Keep turning, keep turning, quick sniff, and stop!
There’s also the “pretend you’re listening to the most hype song and can’t help but rock out” move.
That one is a little harder to pull off in a public setting though.
Anyways, my quick sniff move determined that I was not the source of the smell. I’m sitting there, thinking, “it might go away after a while.” Nope, it kept getting stronger.
At this point, I’m holding my breath and trying not to pass out, thinking “Oh Lord! I can’t go like this. If I go out like this, my family better lie and say I died saving some cats from a burning building or I’m haunting all of them for the rest of eternity”
But y’all weren’t there. It was a full-on assault on all human senses and probably the 6th one that some people claim to have.
As I pulled out my phone to inform my friend of my predicament, homeboy next to me raised his arm to press the stop sign…
All I can say is…
(I know Kevin has made an appearance here before, but it’s so relevant)
I definitely, literally blacked out.
I regained my composure, got up to let him get off the bus and never sat back down. I couldn’t risk going through that again.
Worse, I couldn’t tell if the smell had rubbed off on the seat.
What if the person who sat next to me after him thought that I was the smelly passenger?
Nah son! Non merci.