Anyway, after my initial puzzlement at being seated next to a thug during my morning commute (hey, to be fair, maybe he had some job to go to, what do I know?) I settled in and waited. What immediately struck my nostrils, though, was this pungent sweet/sour aroma that was vaguely reminiscent of piss. Now, mind you, this WAS the BART, so urine scent is not uncommon, but I had not smelled it up to this point, so it stuck out in my nose. I looked around me to see if some homeless/crazy/whatever person had hopped on the train and was in my immediate area. Nope. Then I did the careful, undetected, scan of the people around me to gauge the likelihood for their being the source of this foul aroma. Did I see any Hassidic Jews? No. Old Asian folks? No. Little kids? No. There were biz folks all around me, women, and my thuggish friend the sore thumb sticking out.
Being fairly certain I had pinned down the source of my discomfort I figured I would labor on, as getting up and moving was not worth it given that my stop was 2 away. We were in a crowded train and all. But as I sat there the smell became seriously unbearable. I began to feel my mouth running dry as my sinuses became polluted with this man's funk.
No sooner was I about to stand up and move across the train than he turned to me, flashed an iced out grill and pulled a bottle of Bacardi 151 out of his jacket. "Ahhhh," I thought to myself. "Thuggin' it up last night ... takin' the morning train home." He proceeded to read the back label to me, noting the flammability of the spirit. In his words "I use this as straight lighter fluid, doo." Then he tried to sell the bottle to me for $20, which I politely declined.Ah, the BART and the Yay Area ...
