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This is a question Public Transport Trauma

Completely Underwhelmed writes, "I was on a bus the other day when a man got on wearing shorts, over what looked like greeny grey leggings. Then the stench hit me. The 'leggings' were a mass of open wounds, crusted with greenish solidified pus that flaked off in bits as he moved."

What's the worst public transport experience you've ever had?

(, Thu 29 May 2008, 15:13)
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Bit of a pearoast...
... but thought it was worth putting here.

Usually, I visit my girlfriend who lives in London, by driving down the A1 on a friday night. One time though, I had to use public transport as I was going to a gig on the sunday night and so wouldn't really be able to drive (due to heavy drinking, late finish etc). So I decided to catch the train.

I got on the train at Huntingdon and experienced no major trauma there. And on the whole, the journey was pretty uneventful.

Until we reached Stevenage.

My only real previous knowledge of Stevenage is driving past it on the A1 and laughing at all the retards in shite cars with bits stuck on (my favourite was a mk2 fiesta with downlighters and an exhaust like a fucking coal scuttle). But now I would be experiening it first hand. And I wish I hadn't.

It started when 'she' got on. I'd say no older than 16 and easily a dress size 18 poured into a white size 14 dress that managed to be too short and too low at the same time, and left nothing to the imagination. She staggered on with her delightful chums, swigging from a bottle of blue WKD. They then proceeded to sit across from me and start chatting (well, shouting) about all the fun and merriment they would be having later that night (or chavvy boys they would undoubtedly be catching a variety of diseases off of later that night. In a bus shelter).

I noticed after a short while that our girl in white had fallen asleep - or passed out. It was at that point that the horror unfolded. Despite concentating very hard on my ipod and the songs contained within, I couldn't help but notice the damp stain that was slowly spreading across her lap. Or the unmistakable smell of shit coming from her direction. A smell that was pungent enough to a) wake her up and b)make her throw up.

Lovely.

(The horror didn't stop there though. Eventually crossed London, got to Waterloo and got on the train to Kingston with a bunch of girls who were clearly on a birthday adventure. Drinking from bottles of screwtop wine. After a short time, one of them performed a perfect 5 finger spread - the never successful but always amusing practice of putting your hand over your mouth to prevent the torrent of vomit from escaping.)

I hate trains.
(, Sat 31 May 2008, 12:27, 3 replies)
I live in stevenage...
..and she was probably a mother of 3!!
(, Sat 31 May 2008, 13:58, closed)
...Only 3?!
I also live in glorious St Evenage which claimed for a number of years of having the country's youngest grandfather. I'm so proud!
(, Sat 31 May 2008, 14:58, closed)
wooo
i live in stevenage too! i'm also so proud :D
(, Sat 31 May 2008, 15:26, closed)

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