So I was on the bus earlier and I hate aisle seats for the same reason you will hate aisle seats in approximately three minutes time.
I normally do not mind seating next to the passageway when the bus is derived of any passengers. What, I have my personal space limit to maintain here. Which means crowds should not exist at 9.10pm. But this old man, he played knick … oh … He stood horribly close – like the fabric of his clothes was touching my sleeve close – and he smelled. On a smell’o’metre scale, the needle was very close to attempting a daring break out.
Now add the four stops I had to endure before I can drop off. Oh, and I had to lean towards the middle-aged man in pink who was seating beside me. There was definitely a low hum from his corner during the journey. Our sleeves kept brushing against one another too. See why you hate aisle seats now?
But really, nothing compares to the lovely blast of rancid smell molecules that welcomed me to the office washroom. That, my friend, totally sent the smell’o’metre scale back into the manufacturer’s arms. Right before lunch too. Wonderful eh?
Feel free to leave your smelly snides in the comment box below.