IncuboRossonero said:
True Story:
This past summer in San Francisco I was sitting in a packed, smelly bus running along Market street from the Transamerica Pyramid to the Haight-Ashbury area. The European female I was with wanted to get 'in touch’ with the locals and insisted on taking a bus. Filled with whino’s, junkie’s, the mentally ill, ex-cons and the homeless I quickly started to feel claustrophobic while always the optimist said “ this is what makes this city so colorful”. Finally sitting next to a homeless man who smelled like a blend of rotting fish, apartment-building-cooking-in-the-hall smell and stale vomit I got up and told the Eurodame I was 'out a here’. She pushed me back down on the seat and scolded me saying “You bring rotting fruit in stadiums and throw them at men and women wearing opposing scarves…You urinate in balloons and throw them 50 or so yards to people you have never met…Week after week you have been hit with rotten fruit with mould and balloons filled with God knows what and you are snubbing these people…sit down BIATCH.”
The homeless man replied “Piss in a balloon…mutha fucka you ain’t got no class…even I wouldn’t do that shite and I done a-lot o’ shit ai’t.” As the bus full of whino’s, junkie’s and homeless eyed me I opened up my backpack full of balloons and fruit and 'rocked the house’
Nice. I collected enough similar experiences taking the 14 Mission bus during owl service. Except it heads down to the Latin neighborhoods of the Mission district from downtown. After 11pm, the bus kind of feels like one of those scary night rides on a public bus along some dirt road in Nicaragua. Except instead of everyone carrying chickens and other livestock on board, people are mentally whacked out of their minds.
Once I was relieved when the most normal woman got on the bus and sat down next to me. She had all her limbs, two eyes, and I didn't see overt signs of drooling or vomit. She even was, for public transportation standards, moderately attractive. I felt I lucked out on my ride that night, as I wouldn't have to scrub myself with boric acid and a de-licing agent in the tub when I got home.
Wouldn't you know it, this seemingly "normal" person suddenly starts screaming the most foul-mouthed obscenities at the top of her lungs at her imaginary friends on the bus. Serious case of the Tourettes.
So I moved a few seats over and finished the ride sitting next to this guy with his head buried in his coat collar. Sure, he smelled like Boris Yeltsin's breath (and I mean
at this very moment), but at least he was quiet.