- Having fallen victim to a lemon on my previous automobile purchase (you’d think the term lemon and Honda wouldn’t be found in the same sentence, but I digress), I’ve spent all but 6 collective weeks between August ’10 and now riding CCT and MARTA to and from work. It’s been an experience that has made me stronger and more grateful (especially grateful for my new ride ^_^), but it should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever had to rely on public transportation that some of my experiences were less than pleasant.
MARTA is an acronym for “Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority”. However, a few unsavory experiences have driven me to dub a new definition for MARTA: “Musty And Rancid Travelers of Atlanta.” I’ve had several occasions on the train where someone enters the train and I have to fight with all my heart, mind, soul and strength to keep from gagging. Now, I can understand if said person is homeless, or if they just got off work from a physically strenuous job. Doesn’t necessarily make the smell any more tolerable, but I understand. However, there are regular looking people who get on the bus or train just smelling like they haven’t so much as touched a bar of soap all week. Call me judging, but I honestly don’t see any valid excuse for a non-homeless/poor person to smell like that. Don’t get me wrong, I have my “had to skip a shower ‘cause I slept in too long and I’m late for work” days just like the next person does. But please believe I don’t make a habit out of not bathing. Even if I didn’t do anything funk-inducing the previous day, I just don’t feel right without a shower. I just really don’t understand how the thought process of “Hmm… I haven’t washed recently” could ever escape anyone’s mind. Then again, that just lets me further know that we don’t all think alike. That can be such a sad and unfortunate fact in some cases. And in cases like this, it’s Just NASTY.
- One particular unpleasant situation on MARTA happened to be devoid of any nose-hazards. Still, it was just as nasty. My date and I were leaving the Hawks game (we won) and were taking the train back to where we parked. Just as we were about to sit down, we saw something that made us stop in mid-sit and move immediately to the seats across the isle. A red substance looked to have been smeared across the seat. It appeared to have originated from the middle and was smeared out towards the edge. We figured we were better off assuming that what we saw was not some spilled Kool-Aid that had dried up. As we sat in our significantly more sanitary seats, we watched in amusement the reactions of others as they almost sat in that… well… “red stuff” and quickly decided to sit elsewhere. I regret that I didn’t have the presence of mind to whip out my handy-dandy iPhone at the time, as this was definitely a YouTube-worthy moment. Nothing made our night more than seeing the looks on the other passengers’ faces. Looks of disgust that seemed to scream out “Now that’s Just NASTY.”
- In my 28 years on this planet, I’ve had to share many facilities with other members of the male gender. I’ve lived in a house with my dad and younger brother. I’ve shared a high school football field house with dozens of other adolescent males. I’ve shared a locker room at an MMA gym. I’ve had up to 4 roommates in the same apartment. So you can imagine that I’ve been exposed to (and been the cause of) my share of foul smells. Being a guy, you get used to them. You still don’t like them when they happen, but you get used to them. But, sometimes a smell hits your nostrils that is so otherworldly that it almost makes you lose your religion as you’re knocked back. Take, for example, the male public restroom. Again, the following doesn’t make the smell any less offensive, but given the fact that it’s a public restroom (a male public restroom at that), you all but expect horrible smells from time to time. The sad thing is, sometimes these smells come from unexpected sources. We’ve all walked into a public restroom (at least we guys have, not sure about you ladies out there) and realized a second too late that someone just bombed Hiroshima in there. However, there are a few people at my place of work whom I’ve walked into the bathroom after and been more abhorred by the lingering body odor that they left behind than the deuce that they just dropped. It’s one thing to have to hold your breath from the effects of #2, but to take a half step through the restroom door only to turn right back around because the leftover B.O. slapped you in the face is just all kinds of wrong. That is just baffling to me. I mean, really…. How…what… how could… o_O ... You know what, forget it. I’m not even going to try to break my brain over that. I don’t even want to imagine. ‘Cause that’s… Just… NASTY.
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