Sunday November 4, 2007

It's been a while since I've had a Bus Tale of my own (what with the owning of a car now), but I generally take the 17 to work about 3 days a week in Cincinnati.
This week, while en route to the Contemporary Arts Center, my bus driver decided to display her OCD (which would seem to be an impediment to BEING A BUS DRIVER, what with the uncleanliness and the general mis-rule of the public transit system in Cincinnati) by following the entry of each passenger by her copious spraying of Febreeze onto the entry terminal.  Worse yet, the Febreeze was not unscented, but Fresh Raspberry Meadow Hellhole Febreeze, or something equally faux-fruitful.
I debated exiting the bus seventeen blocks early and just walking to work from there to escape the overpowering berry-ness.

P.S.:  Febreeze does not disinfect anything, dumbass.  It just makes my scarf smell like cheap synthetic fruit all day long, and does nothing to prevent your acquisition of MRSA or other scary superbugs that I will not choose to think about when using the presumably infected elliptical trainer in our basement workout room.

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