It's been almost two weeks of bus commutes, and I have kept fairly mum. Generally speaking, things have gone smoothly, as long as I have been standing in the middle of the bus, where apparently no one but me dares to hang out.
But today, it was a little more than I could take. See, outbound trains between Montgomery and Castro are usually uncomfortably crowded. Even in my safe haven at the middle of the train gets a little packed in. So I'm standing there, I decided not to read a book since I'd read a lot on my lunch break, so I was minding my own business and kind of staring around blankly. Then, all of a sudden I see something that no one on a bus ever wants to see (except for maybe the vomit face): I see someone look a little puzzled and sniff a bit. Then it spreads. Nostrils flare. People all look around while trying to avoid the gaze of those around them as best they can. Then, inside of a minute, my fears are confirmed: someone has farted on the bus. It's cramped. It's hot. Before I know it, I'm catching nasty rank whiffs. I can tell it's come from the left of me, but that's about it. No one looks horribly guilty. Then I have an even worse realization: we've just pulled out of Van Ness station. For you non-San Franciscans, that means this is one of the longest stretches of tunnel between stations, which means I'm fresh out of fresh air for a solid few minutes. I made it through, but dammit, I was more than a little disgusted the whole way until Church station.
Welcome to MUNI. Here's a gas mask.
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