Phew!

Why is it that at least once per week I get stuck with an oral-hygiene-deficient mouth-breather behind me? Most of the time the stench is garden-variety "morning breath," but every horrible once in a while I get someone with what I call, "shit-breath." It's as if he or she pulled breakfast out of the litter box.

Various types of stink regularly waft through fetid bus air. In the summer there are the smells of sweaty cumin-y armpits and pickle-y feet; in the winter we lose the sweat but still contend with the aromas of unwashed hair and cheap dollar-store perfume that might be more appropriate as a toilet bowl "deodorizer." "Coconut" seems to be a popular choice, as does "strawberry." The other morning, a young man strode past me smelling like he had recently wrestled a skunk, and lost.

Friday afternoon, I shared a seat with a woman carrying a McDonald's bag that contained cooling french fries. The greasy aroma was made even more nauseating by the smell of crab soup being eaten by a brazen woman sitting across the aisle. Every once in a while, someone eats chicken wings doused in hot sauce. Not only is the smell disgusting, the thought of filthy hands touching snotted-up bus rails before digging into a late lunch really makes me ill. Sometimes I think it might be fun to vomit on one of these diners.

They make hand sanitizers. Can we get some air sanitizers now, too? (And don't say Febreze, cuz that stinks, too.)

Posted by theminx on MTA Diaries.