Tag Archives: commute

It’s a christmas miracle!!

8 Mar

This just in:

Man gives girl seat on subway in rush hour, girl nearly dies from shock.

Dear random man who gave me his hot commodity (that’s a subway seat, people… get your mind out of the gutter),

It’s a christmas miracle!!! Yeah, it’s a few months late, but hey, I’ll take what I can get. If you didn’t have a ring on I probably would have jumped you. Thank you for your seat and temporarily restoring my faith in humanity.


Allergic to you.xo


Big league chewers

7 Mar

Dear gum chewers of planet earth,

Trust me, as a gum connoisseur, I appreciate the wonder of its chewy, bubble-blowin’, sugary fabulousness… but really, must I see your tonsils and directly into your esophagus while mistaking the sounds coming from your mouth as those of an elderly person going to town on a jar of peanut butter without their dentures? I mean, come on now. I know it’s hard to be an adult, but you might want to consider trying a teeny bit harder, so as to avoid looking like a moderately unbalanced farm animal (at least in public).


Allergic to you.xo

Moron #338

25 Feb

Dear Moron #338,

What the hell?! People like you should not be allowed to ride the bus.  Not only did you block the entire aisle by holding both of your arms up at the top of the poles on either side so all of us were squished to one side of the bus, your nasty-ass jacket was too short which then showed your hairy, giggly belly and your goddamn stained boxers. It’s bad enough that you wouldn’t budge when people asked you to, so instead they had to duck and crouch down under your rank smelling armpits, while at the same time trying really hard to weave around so as to not rub any part of them against you as if they were playing a live game of  Operation or Hot Potato.  One of these things just doesn’t belong, and it’s you. Next stop, my-fist-in-your-face-ville.


Allergic to you. xo

Moron #5671

23 Feb

Dear fellow bus riders,

It’s probably not a good idea to vandalize the bus when it is still in park in the station, you know? Just sayin’.


Allergic to you.xo

Sadly, this little snippet was the highlight of my yesterday (I know, get a life and such).

Picture this:

The bus is packed to the armpits, doors shut, prepared for take-off.

Moron #5671: <Runs to bus>

Passengers: <Stare blankly at moron>

Driver: <Does not open door for moron, begins to slowly take-off>

Moron #5671: <Bangs on bus, kicks bus, bangs on bus, kicks bus>

Driver: <Slams on breaks, passengers faces go flying into armpits (smelly, smelly armpits)>

Moron #5671: <Raises arms in a ‘what!’ motion>

Driver: <Screams through closed door> What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you loco? Huh? <makes crazy motion at head>

Moron #5671: <Yells multiple swears that no one can hear as the door is closed>

Driver: <Opens door> Did you just hit my fucking bus? Did you? Are you loco? Are you crazy? What is wrong with you?

Moron #5671: Ya, I hit your bus!

Me: <Trying extremely hard to contain amusement. Really, really hard>

Driver: Are admitting that you hit my vehicle?? Idiot! Do you want me to call the police?

Moron #5671: What?! No. Listen, I was running for the bus, waving and jumping, and then you just… took off.

Driver: Can you  not see this bus is full. There’s like 3 other buses behind me. What the hell is wrong with you?

Passengers: Hee hee hee. Ha ha ha.

Me: <Smiles>

Moron #5671: Well, maybe you should pay attention to your customers. Customer service!

Driver: What did I just tell you? Where would you even fit on this bus, smarty pants (nice touch).

Me: <Thinking, at this point, if I were Mr. Bus Driver, I would have said, ‘Here’s your customer service, and flipped him the bird>

Moron #5671: <Can’t think of anything intelligent to say, feeling defeated> Well! Uh… ya! like! LIKE! I was running!!!

Random Passenger: You go Forest. Run Forest, run!

Passengers: <Applaud>


Moron #5671: <Confused look> Ya, well, like, LIKE….

Driver: <Takes off like a bat out of hell>

Passengers: <Smile and are happy for the rest of the ride, and considerate to fellow riders (i.e. muttering words such as, excuse me, thank you and please)>

So that’s all it takes? A little vandalism, a little confrontation, a little yelling and screaming… and the passengers are happy!

Good to know.

Please do not touch, lick, stroke or mount the exhibits

9 Feb

Dear commuters who rapidly caress the pole as if you are employee of the month at your local Happy Ending Rub ‘N Tug,

Although I’m aware that you probably don’t realize you are doing it, it’s definitely not very becoming (I assume my opinion would be drastically different if I were male, but… ya, nope).  Whether it’s because your gloves slide up and down, or it’s the constant slip of your sweaty palm, you look ridiculous.

I’m actually not so offended by the above part as I find it rather amusing. What bothers me is that when you do that, you touch my hand and/or finger and/or coat and/or leg, when I happen to be using the same pole or standing in your general area. Call me crazy, call me OCD, call me neurotic, call me whatever you want, but do.not.touch.me. I do not want your dirty gloves touching my hand. I do not want your sweaty palms touching my body. I do not want the surplus of  fuzz from your coat transferring on to mine. I do not want to pick your stray hairs off my coat. I do not want your backpack that smells deliciously of eggs, dirt, and peanut butter anywhere near my existence. I do not want to have to knock you out. Deal?


Allergic to you. xo


3 Feb

Dear moron who consequently forced another moron to give yours truly a fabulous papercut,

Not only did you continue to fondle me even though I kept moving so you had more room to read your stupid book, you swung around on the pole like the high-class subway stripper that you are and knocked me into that other moron who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.  Thanks for that.  Since I had no time to react, I had to use other moron’s stupid book to break my fall so I could avoid my face being smothered in her crotch, which resulted in one bitch of a  papercut. Instead of knocking you over head with the much deserved overpriced bottle of Pinot Noir that was in my bag, I strategically pulled your high-class subway stripper pole move back on you as I left the train, knowing that my bag that carried that overpriced bottle of wine would whack your kneecap. To avoid this type of random violence in the future, please attend my new seminar, “Idiot’s Guide to Public Transit Etiquette” (also known as “Seriously?”).


Allergic to you. xo

Hair Pullers

28 May

It can’t be helped.

As previously predicted, public transit stories are taking over this little operation. 

Dear woman who mistook my hair for the pole,

My locks are not yours to grab.




Allergic to you. xo

Last time I checked, the colour, shape, and texture of my hair was not that of subway pole likeness. 

Is it possible that sometime between my steps out of my front door and the entrance to the subway my hair magically morphed into a pole-type hologram?

Maybe so.

During the morning rush there’s not much to hold on to, and I admit, I have grabbed a random backpack once or twice for support.  But that’s because the damn things are massively huge and my grab for support also doubled as defensive move from my body getting  jabbed in the side chest stomach arm head leg ass random body part.

Hair, though? Really?

I mean, trust me, there are plently of things I’d like to grab onto but,  you know, I don’t.

You: Really. Enlighten me.

Me: Use your imagination, genius. Do I have to do everything?

Anyhoo, the train came to a halt, and Miss Grabby McGrabberton blindly reached out to the crowd. Rather than grabbing onto the pole or a backpack, she took a chunk of my hair, and gave a mighty yank to pull herself forward. 


I was too exhausted to fight back. The most I could do was shoot a death glare, but since my eyes were half closed already, it wasn’t as effective as usual.  Miss Grabby, you are extremely lucky.

Needless to say, I’ve tied my hair back for the commute home.

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