San Diego Public Transit

I enjoy riding the trolley to work. Most days anyway. It helps to save gas money, downtown parking fees, and the environment. It also gives me a little time to wake up in the morning and time to wind down in the afternoon. I don't have to worry about traffic jams and I can call and talk to my family without being inturupted by a screaming child or distracted by driving. Typically, the trolley will have the same commuters each day with sporadic once-in-awhilers. Sometimes, a transient or two will get on board, talk to him or herself for a few stops then hop off at the next station. And then there are the occasional delays. Let me explain.

The trolley is scheduled to pick up passengers every 15 minutes at each station. So, lets say 4:00, 4:15, 4:30 and 5:00. Lets also say that each stop picks up and lets off roughly 25 passengers per car (usually 3 cars per trolley). This would allow comfortable seating for all of the passengers boarding. On a busy day some passengers may have to stand. While waiting for my 4:30 trolley I was told that 2 of the earlier trolleys (the 4:00 and the 4:15) had not come. This of course means that the trolley will be packed when it arrives at 4:30. Well, the trolley did not arrive till almost 5:00, which means that there were 4 times as many people as there normally is in any given car. I was fortunate enough to find the last available seat. By the 3rd stop after my boarding, the trolley was so packed I don't think it could've picked up any more passengers. But people kept shoving their way on the car and it didn't seem like anyone was getting off. This also means that I was packed in my seat like a canned fish. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't be a big deal. But as previously stated, I'm not that lucky. The person next to me (an older gentleman from out of town) was extremely friendly but apparently has never been introduced to lotion or a pumice stone. His elbows were so scaly it felt like little razors rubbing up against my arm. Which, by the way, is still raw. The gentleman across from me suffered from severe Halitosis and apparently couldn't catch his breath or had a long day or something. Every few seconds, or so it seemed, he would take a deep breath and let out a big long, hot, stinky, breathy sigh right into my face. The person standing in the aisle (who's XL tushy was just level with my face) next to my seat had a terrible problem with flatulence. Normally, I can handle these things individually. I get a little scratch on my arm, eh, whatever. I have to talk to someone who has bad breath, no biggie. Someone passes really smelly gas, I politely leave the room or deal with the stench for a few until it passes. After all, I do have children and these things happen on a regular basis. But, I was surrounded, with no where to escape. Put these three things together and, let me tell you, it's by far the absolute grossest thing I have ever dealt with EVER. You could almost cut through the green cloud of stench with my bench companions crusty elbow. YUK!

I can deal with poopy diapers and other foul bodily smells from my children, maybe because I love them so much. Love does have a habit of making one blind. But having any of these things forced upon you by strangers is no fun.
The men sitting next to and across from me were so nice that I didn't want to be rude and move elsewhere. I couldn't if I wanted to because there was no where to go anyway. Fortunately my stop came and I was able to excuse my self and wish them a good day. Ahhhh, fresh air...