Four cars... what??

So tonight's adventure took me allllllll the way to the front of the train in the bowels of Grand Central Terminal. It's never a good sign when you see "track 106" flashing on the monitor. Flashing, I have come to learn, is the MTA's little way of saying, HEY heads up... you might have a track change. Never fun. 

As I walked to my train, I thought about the blog I had been told to start. I thought to myself, maybe I'm being overly dramatic... maybe it hasn't been all that bad...  THEN I reach my train and realize... there are only four cars tonight. So I hop on in the last possible car and look for that kind of overweight slightly stinky commuter with their bags all over the middle seat. No one ever sits in the middle seat next to a big greasy dude with no sense of personal space. Two minutes before the train doors shut, 30 plus people rush on because well... there were only four cars! Apparently, the only other people willing to sit next to big greasy dudes of the train... are other big greasy dudes. Squashed in the aisle seat next to big dude hanging all over my side of the seat piping, I pulled out my phone and started to play bubble popper. 

Knees up on the seat in front of me, half way through the ride home, I noticed people kind of looking around with a stink face. Just when I thought big dude, plus even biger big dude was as bad as it was going to get, I was blind sided by "the smell". EVERYONE smelled it... NO ONE knew what it was. It was bad, it came in waves and it came from all over. About five minutes after my first encounter, I noticed "we'll call him skipper" jump up and B line straight for the bathroom. When someone willingly uses the train bathroom... you know it's bad. By his third marathon to the Jon... well, I'll let you put two and two together. My fellow commuters and I positively identified "the smell".

Soooo I thought I was in the clear when "skipper" didn't come back from the bathroom... that's when I was hit with my parting gift from Metro North for the night.... Big Greasy Fat Dude's NOSE BREATH all up on my hair. Something's not right when a ones nose breath creates the same "hair blowing in the wind" effect as a New York tornado in September.

Until tomorrow....