Rantopolis

More proof why I hate public transportation

When people ask me why I have such a dislike for public transportation, may I share last night’s encounter with you as a prime example?

I was a guest at a corporate event at one of the roof-tops across from Wrigley Field.   If you’ve never been to this iconic venue, you may not know that it sits in the middle of a residential neighborhood.  The home of the Chicago Cubs isn’t one of those huge steel structures with massive parking around it.  No, sir!  This place has character.

Hence, the most viable way to go to a game is …gasp…public transportation.

While I was fortunate to arrive to the park without major incident or annoyance, the same could not be said for the return trip.

May I introduce you to “smelly, talking-to-himself, jotting down baseball stats and shouting obscenities,” dude?

He was so oblivious, that I could have done an entire photoshoot with strobe lights.

Leaving the event during the eighth inning, I made my way to the bus stop two blocks away.  As I approached the corner, I noticed there was a guy wearing headphones, talking to himself and  jotting notes down on a large piece of paper.

Great.  The mayor of Freak City was taking the same bus.

Apparently, I was not successful in telepathically communicating “don’t even think of sitting next to me” because he boarded the bus and made a direct beeline for the seat beside me.

That’s when I officially began my ride on the Stench Express.

I thought, well, if I have to endure this for the next 15 minutes, I need to make the best of this.

And by endure, I meant, “I need to start a Facebook thread and start uploading photos.”

Normally, you aren’t going to turn to the person next to you on the bus and take a photo of his/her weird behavior. Because that, of course, would be like begging to be stabbed.

But this guy was waaay more into listening to the end of the game through his headphones and shouting obscenities than committing a felony. A little thing like the click of an iPhone didn’t even make an impression.

He also was leaning into me with his right leg.  That’s when I began to have thoughts of amputation.  Did my iPhone have an app on it which could perform microsurgery?  Damn you app developers.  A little less Angry Birds, a little more switchblade, please!

But the worst part of this whole encounter was the smell.  As in “I am willing to give you my entire life savings for a gas mask” right now.

Then a miracle occurred.   He stood up and walked off the bus a good mile from my stop.

That was a two-fold benefit.  The obvious one was the smell leaving my perimeter. The second one was that  I was not going to be followed home.  Which seriously minimized my chances of being dismembered and stuffed into a garbage can.

Normally, a Cubs win would have been good enough.  But, you gotta admit, avoiding a dismemberment is right up there.

Categories: Chicago style , Fright night , Travel drama