please mind the gap and the small piles of ear cheese

Friday 11 February, 2011

Everyone complains about public transport. It seems to be a universal. You can go to any town in any country and they will always complain about how it’s never on time, or how it’s dirty, or how it costs too much. I’ve decided I need to learn how to say “This train is filthy and late.” in 5 different languages so that I can break the ice no matter where I go.

But you know what’s more shitty than public transport? People on public transport. I hate them all. Do you want to know why? People are fucking disgusting. Put a large group of disgusting people together and what do you get? The 6:05pm from Central, that’s what.

I’m not even talking about how you may smell the occasional underarm on a hot day. I’m talking about people doing things in public that they should really keep for those private moments alone (or, at the very least, when they think they’re alone).

I once sat behind a dude who was fingering a rather overdue pimple on the back of his neck. I gave him the “I’m six inches behind you” courtesy cough, but he didn’t care. It was when he started making attempts to squeeze the thing that I thought “Nope. Not today.” and got up to find a less puss-filled section of the train.

Then there was the time I sat across from a guy who seemed to be scratching at his back for an extended period of time. “That’s okay,” I thought, “he’s probably just been bitten by a few mozzies and is now giving them a nice satisfying scratch. I can deal with that.” Then the guy removes his hand from his back and I notice he’s got a huge piece of crunchy dead skin between his fingers. He proceeds to examine it, then crunch it up and sprinkle it down the edge of the seat like it was goddamn fairy dust or something. At this point I was honestly trying to hold back the good ol’ dry heaves. From memory I just got right off the train at the next stop. I was afraid there were crunchy skin particles in the air.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking “Those are both isolated incidents! I ride the train! I’m not fucking gross!” Oh but you are. Perhaps you’re one of those people who somehow believes it’s okay to cut their fingernails on their way from work. What possible logic is there to this? I honestly don’t enjoy looking down at my seat and seeing tiny fucking nail clippings everywhere. I go home and lay in the foetal position under a cold shower after every encounter. It’s happened more times than I care to recount.

One of these days I’m just going to embrace it all. I’m going to get each index finger and plunge them deep into each of my ears, then I’m going to jiggle them around like I’m searching for fucking buried treasure, then I’m going to pull my fingers out, smell them, and wipe them down the seat next to me. Only then will I feel like a true commuter.