This is lovely.  My uncle was a transit driver forever, and yeah, the stories were something awful.  The worst, though, was from when he drove a subway in Toronto. Someone killed himself by jumping in front of my uncle’s train.

Not as flat out disgusting as some of the others mentioned, but points for just being bizarre I guess...

This. 5 years of the NYC and a year of BART...how do I pick? 

I ride the el in Philly, what HAVEN’T I seen.

My cousin/surrogate father figure was a bus driver for New Jersey Transit for 30 years. Most of his routes ran from Philadelphia/Camden to the southern ‘burbs like Millville and Bridgeton NJ, so there was always a good mix of inner-city riders, New Jersey’s own special brand of provincials and every thing in between.

High school, on my way to school on a public bus. Got up at 5AM and couldn’t sleep, so I got on the bus at 5.30. It’s still dark and the bus had 3 riders. I sat on the long rear bench.

I went to junior high and high school in the city, (NYC) living in Queens at the time. I was coming home from school and was in the last car. There was a woman at the front of the car, and sitting across from me a man in Jewish Orthodox traditional attire. He was jerking off. Looking at me. All of 16 years old me.…

I was riding the county bus home, and it was filling up as it was about 6 or 7 pm. A man sits down next to me and puts his backpack between his legs on the floor in front of him. “Don’t be surprised if a head pops out of this bag,” he tells me. Now, maybe I just read/listen/watch way too much true crime, but I…

There seems to be something here about not having the intelligence to realise how little you know. A moderately intelligent person realises how hard something is and how they may not be able to get away with murder.

All over myself multiple times a day for a little over two weeks.

Hey, for me it’s also a pregnancy pee. I was in my third trimester, still vomit-y and easily nauseated. On my daily commute I had to take the train and because third trimester really, really needed to pee.

This wins for sheer impact in the least amount of words. The 1st 8 words alone tells the reader exactly how truly horrifying the next 12 words really were. Brava!

1986. Newly pregnant. Florida in August, about noon. Flea Market porta-potty. I vomitted on my feet while I was peeing.

When I was a kid I peed in some very lovely bushes and used a leaf to wipe myself. Fucking poison ivy or something like it. Hoo boy. 

Gender reveal parties are extremely weird at best and deeply fucked up at worst. That poor distressed child in the middle is the only sane person in this debacle.

Whenever people start talking about babies’ genders with me, I don’t scold them, but I use the term biological sex in my responses. They get uncomfortable and change the subject. Win!

Okay, I’ve worked in publishing and this is 100% true. Their whole model is around free or underpaid labor.

Can sheepishly confirm. Inheritance was the only thing that kept me afloat post grad school at NYU while I interned (unpaid) all over the city until I made the connections that got me my dream job.

The only people who can afford to be interns there are the kids of the subscribers.

Wow, usually war criminal leaders do the “failed artist” thing first.