Crazed Men on the Bus
As a long-time bus rider, I've come to know the species of bus-bound flora and fauna quite well, thank you. One of the more peculiar specimens of the public transit ecosystem, or omniculture as it's known in the field, is the Crazed Man Who Stinks (CMWS) (not to be confused with the Crazed Man Who Shrinks, another creature found horrifying for completely different reasons).
The CMWS is typically found between the hours of 10am and 4pm, and is often located in a seat somewhere in the front third of the bus, where he may sit and issue forth withering, creepy stares at every fifth passenger who enters the vehicle. His eyes are held abnormally wide, his clothing often consists of mismatched sporting gear from the early 90s, and his demeanor is best described as "surly, with a hint of schizophrenia."
But the primary telltale feature of a CMWS is, of course, the stench, which issues forth like an invisible mushroom cloud of body odor, hospital food, Jiffy Lube grease, half-digested morsels of food lodged in his beard, and more, older body odor.
What's plagued omniculturalists for decades if, of course, discerning the actual source of this stench. Three hypotheses proposed thus far:
1) CMWSs are raised in small towns beyond the bounds of the typical soap delivery truck route. These towns are home to notably undersized grocery and drug stores, indicative of the lack of aisles and shelf space devoted to hygenic commodities like soap, shampoo, deodarant, and Lysol. The CMWS, then, grew up in complete ignorance of modernity's olfactory innovations, and is thus completely unaware of the common norms of big city omniculture.
2) CWMSs have all suffered some sort of tragic(omic) incident in grammar school involving being spit upon by the schoolyard bully. This spitting, it is believed, is too close in structure to the activity of the common shower head, rendering the CMWS completely and neurotically afraid of all hygiene-bestowing nozzles and spigots.
3) At some point between the ages of 3 and 13, the CWMS -- then residing in the Black Forest region of Germany -- was skipping stones across a small creek with his sister, when along came on old woman in a pointy hat, who grabbed the siblings by their ankles and hauled them to a small cabin deeper in the woods. There they were played in a large, kettle-like appliance, which was filled with water, root vegetables, and duck meat, at which point a small fire was applied and the CWMS and sister were partially braised before being rescued by a plant biologist with a pickaxe.
Thus far, little ground has been made to prove or disprove any of these hypothese, and the CMWS continues to remain one of mass transit's deepest mysteries....
The CMWS is typically found between the hours of 10am and 4pm, and is often located in a seat somewhere in the front third of the bus, where he may sit and issue forth withering, creepy stares at every fifth passenger who enters the vehicle. His eyes are held abnormally wide, his clothing often consists of mismatched sporting gear from the early 90s, and his demeanor is best described as "surly, with a hint of schizophrenia."
But the primary telltale feature of a CMWS is, of course, the stench, which issues forth like an invisible mushroom cloud of body odor, hospital food, Jiffy Lube grease, half-digested morsels of food lodged in his beard, and more, older body odor.
What's plagued omniculturalists for decades if, of course, discerning the actual source of this stench. Three hypotheses proposed thus far:
1) CMWSs are raised in small towns beyond the bounds of the typical soap delivery truck route. These towns are home to notably undersized grocery and drug stores, indicative of the lack of aisles and shelf space devoted to hygenic commodities like soap, shampoo, deodarant, and Lysol. The CMWS, then, grew up in complete ignorance of modernity's olfactory innovations, and is thus completely unaware of the common norms of big city omniculture.
2) CWMSs have all suffered some sort of tragic(omic) incident in grammar school involving being spit upon by the schoolyard bully. This spitting, it is believed, is too close in structure to the activity of the common shower head, rendering the CMWS completely and neurotically afraid of all hygiene-bestowing nozzles and spigots.
3) At some point between the ages of 3 and 13, the CWMS -- then residing in the Black Forest region of Germany -- was skipping stones across a small creek with his sister, when along came on old woman in a pointy hat, who grabbed the siblings by their ankles and hauled them to a small cabin deeper in the woods. There they were played in a large, kettle-like appliance, which was filled with water, root vegetables, and duck meat, at which point a small fire was applied and the CWMS and sister were partially braised before being rescued by a plant biologist with a pickaxe.
Thus far, little ground has been made to prove or disprove any of these hypothese, and the CMWS continues to remain one of mass transit's deepest mysteries....
posted by Paul S. at
9:50 AM
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