Gag me with a bus
Monday July 7, 2008 | RandomWhen I was younger, I would help my parents muck out the turkey shed. It was a horrible job – sometimes the poo went as deep as six inches in places. The stench was so overpowering that regular breaks outside of the pen had to be taken. Clothes, once worn in the pen, had to be washed several times before that odour would finally leave.
Well, the man on the bus this morning put those little turkey digestive systems to shame.
He came on to the bus on Main Street near Inkster, approximately (you stop paying attention to exact locations people get on the bus after a while, Higgins excluded – because honestly, who gets on or off the bus at Higgins?). He looked like your standard North End fare – dirty, unwashed, secondhand clothing that’s both dirty and unwashed (why is it that most dirty people have Mickey Mouse somewhere on their clothing?). You’d expect him to smell relatively bad, but ignorably so.
He discussed with the driver something about Charleswood. I noticed someone cough, but didn’t think much of it.
As he moved around near the front to dig through a very grimy looking backpack, the smell hit me. It was awful. I’ve genuinely smelled real authentic feces that smelled nicer than this man. It was one of those smells that claws its way through your nose and up to the front part of your brain like an invisible parasite, one of those smells that sinks into your clothing and won’t leave you.
Finally, he sat down. As he walked past, every window flew open. People were covering their noses – this was my defense, I couldn’t do much else to try to keep my sanity – and coughing. Everyone else had this unspoken acknowledgement that we had to combat this stench by any means necessary.
I nearly got off the bus several times. I’d have to walk a fair distance in very high pink heels and most likely be late for work, but at that point it was so close to being worth it.
After he got off the bus at Main and William, the girl nearest the door gagged. I don’t mean faux-gagged, I mean she actually had to choke back vomit. She said to the woman next to her, “That was just too strong for me.” After a coughing fit, she tried to breathe again.
The smell hadn’t left the bus even after we passed Portage. One has to wonder if he was… leaking anything to let his scent linger that long.
And yet, no one said a word.
Have we, as “polite Canadians,” become so polite that when other people make us physically ill, we can’t say a thing about it? While the most serious bus-smell case I’ve experienced so far, it wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. We have laws preventing people from spitting gum on the sidewalk, but not laws that stop people from doing what this man did.
I still have a headache. What a lovely way to start the morning.
Actually, we do have laws stopping people from doing what this man did—the bus driver can refuse to let him on. If his sanitary condition would cause massive discomfort to the other people riding the bus, (as far as I know) he’s legally allowed to keep him off the bus. That said, what bus driver would want to deal with that? Better to let him ride then try to deal with the other possible outcomes.
— Aaron Mon Jul 7, 10:12 #
He’s a regular driver on my route, so I think I should mention that happy little factoid tomorrow morning.
— Jamie Mon Jul 7, 10:22 #