Seat Heat

There’s not much worse than sitting in a bus seat and feeling the warmth of the stranger before you. It’s not just body heat, it’s booty heat. You can almost taste the heebie-jeebies. It doesn’t matter if the source is a hobo or a real person, it’s a big can of crummy either way. I’d even argue there’s a metaphysical angle to all this. It’s the emanation from all the person’s crushed hopes and dreams and daily frustrations. And who has those more than bus people? Perhaps the worst part is, when you get in really close, it smells like sadness.