More fun on the bus

This morning I apparently insulted the woman next to me when I shifted slightly over as she jabbed her elbow into me while rifling through her bag.

“If you don’t want to be touched, get off the bus,” she advised me.

I calmly regarded her.  “It’s nothing personal,” I said.

I’d rather not be touched by any weird, inconsiderate person who reeks of cigarette smoke.

Okay, so maybe it was personal.


  1. Oh god. That honestly is the reason why I stay off the bus. I can’t handle people like that. I’ve already been escorted out of the skytrain for getting into a fight with a guy who told me to stop staring at his suitcase (like, where else am I supposed to look when you plant your crotch in my face? I know it’s rush hour, but jesus)

  2. Ugh, I hate it when people sitting next to you don’t even try to not elbow you in the face when they’re going through their bags. And they should apologise at the very least.