I Smell a Blog Entry!
No, wait... That's urine!!
I realize the less I smoke cigarettes, the more my sense of smell slaps me across the face. I've always had pretty exemplary olfactory nerves.
Case in point: This morning. The Red Line. I made the mistake of sitting in a seat in the corner towards the back of the car. Clearly someone had decided it was high goddamned time someone turned that spot into a urinal. I promptly moved.
Some background. The Red Line on Chicago's Rapid Transit System is the longest line, spanning the distance from Howard to the north and 85th and The Dan Ryan to the south. You can ride the train a good long time. Thus, it is attractive to the itinerant urban dweller. (My PC term for fucking hobo). Their tragic lot in life relegates these folk to retreating to convenient places for warmth in the winter, and cooling centers in the summer. The Red Line runs all night. It provides them with at least some shelter in the wee hours as well. AAAAnd apparently public restrooms.
Long Story short, it fucking stinks on the Red Line. And I'm sorry. I don't care how bad you think cat pee smells...There is no worse smell than stale human piss.
The train isn't the only spot where this scent can be detected. Alleys, the sides of buildings...especially in the summer. When it's hot and the stuff gets baked into the concrete. mmmmmm-MM that's awesome.
And let me tell you something else. It's NOT just the homeless. It's the drunk assholes and handjobs who ride the Red Line back from both cubs AND sox games.
"Dude, I gotta drain it...oh, right here looks good."
Trains, alleys, sidewalks, they don't give a shit.
And the best is the Bonus of a nice pile of vomit!
Please, yes, have that 47th beer. Get on the train!!! And then please, by all means, take a piss on the side of my building. I've been meaning to put a urinal there.
Fucking ew.
I realize the less I smoke cigarettes, the more my sense of smell slaps me across the face. I've always had pretty exemplary olfactory nerves.
Case in point: This morning. The Red Line. I made the mistake of sitting in a seat in the corner towards the back of the car. Clearly someone had decided it was high goddamned time someone turned that spot into a urinal. I promptly moved.
Some background. The Red Line on Chicago's Rapid Transit System is the longest line, spanning the distance from Howard to the north and 85th and The Dan Ryan to the south. You can ride the train a good long time. Thus, it is attractive to the itinerant urban dweller. (My PC term for fucking hobo). Their tragic lot in life relegates these folk to retreating to convenient places for warmth in the winter, and cooling centers in the summer. The Red Line runs all night. It provides them with at least some shelter in the wee hours as well. AAAAnd apparently public restrooms.
Long Story short, it fucking stinks on the Red Line. And I'm sorry. I don't care how bad you think cat pee smells...There is no worse smell than stale human piss.
The train isn't the only spot where this scent can be detected. Alleys, the sides of buildings...especially in the summer. When it's hot and the stuff gets baked into the concrete. mmmmmm-MM that's awesome.
And let me tell you something else. It's NOT just the homeless. It's the drunk assholes and handjobs who ride the Red Line back from both cubs AND sox games.
"Dude, I gotta drain it...oh, right here looks good."
Trains, alleys, sidewalks, they don't give a shit.
And the best is the Bonus of a nice pile of vomit!
Please, yes, have that 47th beer. Get on the train!!! And then please, by all means, take a piss on the side of my building. I've been meaning to put a urinal there.
Fucking ew.
posted by LC Greenwood at 10:19 AM
3 Comments:
You need to start smoking again. Life is so much easier and smells so much better.
Yeah, start smoking...then you can be like Peter Jennings and my Mom...In Heaven. (Christ, L., I still smoke and I can still taste the urine in my mouth on the Red Line...)
Sounds like someone's jealous they can't pee standing up.
Post a Comment
<< Home