So I was riding the train today but before I get to that I want to address the fact that the CTA made me run today. How, you ask? Well the thing is that since the Red Line had been rebuilt/refurbished they have been running 8 cars. Prior to this they ran 4 cars early mornings, late nights and weekends. I had gotten used to the new 8 car policy but today, after running late in the first damn place, the train shows up with 4 cars. Why was that a problem? Because I was at the other damned end of the damned platform. If I wanted to be a runner I wouldn't be riding the bus!
Anyway, before I end up on the paralympics team, my next point of discussion is the person that pooped themselves on the train. Now no human on this planet is a stranger to pooping themselves but I would hazard to say that it was confined to when they were infants. When I made it to the train I was overwhelmed with the aromatic remnants of what smelled to be the freshest of daily poop. A lot of poop. I must assume that it was fresh because the car had a few people on it and they were too busy looking at each other wondering who had just farted. They were slowly realizing that it was not a fart they were experiencing but pure, 100% grade "A" doo doo. The bad part about that was the offending booty hole was between them and the door of the next car. It took one stop before everyone on that car ran out for fresh air and a new car. (I left immediately. I kept walking through the car to the next. Too bad the new passengers did not know.)
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