Of all the indignities of riding SF Muni, the worst has to be rubbing butts with strangers. If you ride Muni you know what I mean as you’ve no doubt rubbed your share of unfamiliar butts.
If you haven’t, it goes like this. First they pack you in like sardines; people standing belly-to-belly and back-to-back in the aisle, while the driver bellows “Move back!” at every stop as he tries to shoehorn in another half dozen people. It’s a verbal cattle prod, but since it’s not the real McCoy, the cattle have caught on to the bluff. A couple people shuffle, moving a foot here and a foot there, but once you’re rubbing butts, the desire to acquiesce diminishes.
So here I am again. Riding the bus regularly, rubbing butts with people I’d rather not rub butts with as I move through the throng to the exit.
Life’s little indignities. Heh.