OCD and Public Transport

Right, you definitely don’t have to have OCD to appreciate this one. Why is it that there are ALWAYS brown coloured stains on any form of public transport? It can’t all be faeces surely. Is there a whole group of people that can’t drink coffee without spilling it directly onto their seat? Anyway. Here’s a list of anxieties that spring to mind anytime I’m about to get on a bus or train.

1) As stated above. The peculiar stains you find on a seat, or several. Can anyone actually explain this to me? Because I’m pretty sure if you crapped yourself on the bus it probably would make more of a mess than that.

2) Knowing when to give up your seat. You ever sit on a bus and think fuck should I be moving? Am I like in the way of this old person? Do they need to be at the front?

3) Drunk people. You’d think after working in a bar for a few months I’d be used to intoxicated people by now. But there’s just something that makes it that much more awkward when you’re getting shouted at or hit on on a bus.

4) When you see someone you know and maybe haven’t seen in a while and you both make that perplexing eye contact and say hi and then continue to ignore each other for the rest of the journey. Both sat in uncomfortable silence before one of you jumps off and awkwardly mumbles bye.

5) This ones a throwback but when Ezra was a baby, coughing, spluttering, infectious people I swear used to be particularly drawn to him. Or drunks. Oh hi there, yes my babies cute but please don’t touch him with the hand you just used to wipe your snot.

And if we’re talking trains and babies. Holy shit. I remember missing my second train to Cornwall by like 2 minutes whilst carrying Ezra in a baby carrier, a ruck sack on my back, a suitcase in the one hand and a car seat in the other. Buckaroo goals.


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