The blueline buses have been in the news for all the wrong reasons. Anyway, now that the rogue buses are back on the roads, my onward journey from my lab is the same hellish experience. What with lactic acid soaked armpits all around, the sight of sweat-drippy females in SYNTHETIC fluorescent salwar-kameezes makes me feel all the more nauseous. Add to that the entire architecture of a part of the male anatomy pressed against the side of my thigh...I count to three and take deep breaths...there's no place in the bus, thus the squashing. But when the rascal inches his way closer and he actually begins hints of gyrations and thrustings, my elbow comes crashing into whatever part it can perforate. Darn, I forgot the pins my lab mates thrust into my hand - a better weapon to puncture lumpenous thrusty elements. The good-for-nothing gets the hint and shimmies himself out of the way. My stop is approaching (actually I'm four stops away), but I've got to move ahead otherwise I'll never make it (make it? a couple of INCHES of bus space towards the door)!
Getting off the bus I dread the next day, just because of all this...
3 comments:
looks like things haven't changed much since the time your mom and her friends, like me, used to bus it to college and other more interesting places. chaps don't change? or they can't?
i guess they can't... :)
Thank God for my bus-free existance:) I got lice from travelling in a local bus once and went crazy ...and the synthetics why do people wear it?
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