Smelly guy and the unexpected surprise

The chief problem with the metro, and with all public transportation, is one that I feel down in the depths of my misanthropic soul. It's that you have to share it with the public. The rude, self-interested, loud, jostling, inconsiderate of their fellow man public. However, the following story isn't about intentional rudeness, just about how riding with one's fellow human beings isn't often that great.

I mention this because of my ride this morning. I got into the train car, and found an open seat, right behind a sleeping guy. I generally don't have a problem with sleeping guys. They can occasionally be a rich source of amusement, as was the case about a week ago, where a guy on a packed train was snoring so loudly, and in such a rich variety of buzz saw tones, that all of the other passengers had a quiet laugh at him, in a beautiful expression of communal mockery. Plus, you can’t really get mad at a sleepy guy. The metro can be relaxing, and sometimes I have fallen asleep on the train. No problems there. So, I sat behind him, opened up my paper (the Express, motto: 'It's a free paper, so fuck quality, we'll just make a the whole thing from AP reports and slap the Post's name on it') and settled in for the ride.

The train began to move. We were on our way. And that's when I noticed it. There was a strange smell in the air. Not a pleasant aroma. I wondered where it was from. What it was. Then my keen senses collaborated with my brain to produce the answer. I know that smell. It's "eau de unwashed dude." A particularly piquant vintage, as well. Yowsa. why didn't I notice it before? And where is it coming from? Oh no.... It's from sleeping guy. How could I have not noticed this before? He didn't look smelly. I even did a brief recon before I sat down behind him, having experienced smelly guys before. The guy was dressed reasonably well. He wasn't going into the office, but he wasn't dressed like a homeless guy or anything. He was wearing a fairly new t-shirt and jeans, carrying a backpack that was in good condition. He basically looked like he was on his way to work, and was catching a nap on the way in. There was no indication of odor whatsoever.

I immediately looked around. by the time I had come to this odiferous epiphany, the seats around me had become filled. so, I couldn't move seats, really. I would have to tough it out. Well, it's unpleasant, but not too bad. When suddenly...Sleepy guy began to stir. He lifted his smelly head upwards, yawned, and sniffled. And here my troubles began.

Because a new cacophony of smells came forth from smelly guy. None of them pleasant. There was the overall funk of unwashed guy with bad B.O. An experienced commuter can tune this out. but when he rose, and yawned, there were some newcomers. The ones I could identify were chronic halitosis, some sort of cold-related snot smell, and flatulence that seemed oddly vivid. But there were others, and none of them were good. These were the wild, untamed aromas of a person who had not cleansed himself, possibly for days. And now, as he was regaining consciousness, the aromas were rising up, as if to ride forth from Castle Funkenstein, and strangle the villagers.

Now, I could do nothing. Helplessly trapped in my seat, I simply buried my face in the paper, and tried to breathe through my ears. Since that wouldn't work, and is actually physiologically impossible, I breathed through my mouth, and thought of clean laundry. I simply thought "he's got to get off sometime. Or I will. But one way or another, this will be over."

I tried to tune out the symphony of smells jostling for attention in my sinuses. I was mostly successful, and waited, trying not to breathe too much, or too deeply. Then, the train made a stop. Smelly guy picked up his backpack. He was getting up! He was leaving! I prepared to gulp in a snootful of (relatively) fresh air. And I thought to myself: why was this guy so smelly. Why were his odors so prevalent, especially the farting? Then, I got my answer as he stood up, and it was the capstone of my Metro experience this morning.

When smelly guy stood up, I saw why. Smelly guy had no belt, and as he got to his feet, I saw that his pants had slid down a considerable bit. My view was filled with a generous portion of uncensored man-ass. At least a quarter cheek, on both sides. Stinky guy was not wearing underwear. This, combined with his rakishly low-slung pants, meant that all of his smells, especially the fart-related ones, were coming to me almost completely unfiltered. As I pondered this, the man-ass retreated from my site, and then resolved into an ever-shrinking vision of smelly guy leaving the car, and shuffling onto the platform to go to work, or wherever he was headed. Off to moon other people. God speed, smelly guy. I took a deep breath of clean air, and watched as someone else sat in smelly guy's vacated seat. I took a moment to ponder what the new guy thought, having sat in the residual funk of smelly guy. I briefly imagined their confusedly crinkled nose, and then went back to my paper.