I wanted to get to work early today but the MBTA Red Line had other plans for me.
On a good day it takes me about 40 minutes door-to-door to get to my office. Today it took 75 minutes due to signal/switch problems up at Charles MGH.
Of course this happens on a day when I don't have my phone charged so I couldn't listen to music to drown out the incessant commentary and complaints about the situation, or take pictures of the sweaty back that kept rubbing against me or the armpit (heavily doused with cologne, thank goodness) that was in my face.
Pictures can't capture the warm breath of the tall man standing next to me, huffing and puffing and mumbling about the situation, but I will not forget the sensation and inclination to vomit that I felt each time he breathed on my face. I had nowhere to turn, no protection, so I lifted my Metro to my face and held it against my forehead for a little while.
It would be so much better if, during these delays, the train would stop at each station quickly instead of "standing by" with the doors open so more and more rude jerks can squeeze on and rub their nasty skin, sweaty clothes and dirty bags all over me.
I wish my office had showers in the ladies room.
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