Know Your Girth
I don't have a whole lot on my brain today. It's Monday morning, got a great ride in up at Ringwood yesterday with Bill, Ben, and Fred. Saturday I was off the bike because I slept in and missed my window to ride. Not quite rested enough because Julia is once again sick, waking up a lot, and blah blah blah.
Cycle 48
I'm just guessing on the cycle number now.
Victim: New Providence, white, woman, 40-49, married, not regular, fat. This is the first time I'm sharing the seat with a fat woman. We're not talking 250 pounds of hunka hunka burning love but there's enough width here to make the ride uncomfortable and make me question once again what the hell it is I'm doing with this stupid experiment. Looking around at the 3 seaters though they're all full, so I'd be packed in anyway.
Ok so if you're a hunka chunka wider load person I think you gotta check your girth settings at the door and sit with someone more amenable to your taking up over half the seat. I'm sitting here sardined between the wall of the train and eternal softness. I'm not someone who is easily bugged out but this is kinda gross. I'm really not looking to know what the softness of your wide thighs feel like on the Monday morning ride into work or, for that matter, ever. No, certainly not ever. That's ill.
Yeah I'm down with the idea that we all pay for the seats so we all have a right to sit. But there was an abundance of open seats when you sat down and you chose me in my orange Monday morning shirt? Why? What's worse is your meat limbs that you hold your newspaper up with are constantly violating my space. Finally, and I'm really not making this up, she kinda smells. I don't know if it's that garlic/onion smell some people get mixed in with the perfum she's wearing but it's pretty ill.
Ok get me off this train, it's starting to get nauseating.
Assessment: Good. Just kidding, Not Good. Bad. Awful. Check your girth.
Cycle 48
I'm just guessing on the cycle number now.
Victim: New Providence, white, woman, 40-49, married, not regular, fat. This is the first time I'm sharing the seat with a fat woman. We're not talking 250 pounds of hunka hunka burning love but there's enough width here to make the ride uncomfortable and make me question once again what the hell it is I'm doing with this stupid experiment. Looking around at the 3 seaters though they're all full, so I'd be packed in anyway.
Ok so if you're a hunka chunka wider load person I think you gotta check your girth settings at the door and sit with someone more amenable to your taking up over half the seat. I'm sitting here sardined between the wall of the train and eternal softness. I'm not someone who is easily bugged out but this is kinda gross. I'm really not looking to know what the softness of your wide thighs feel like on the Monday morning ride into work or, for that matter, ever. No, certainly not ever. That's ill.
Yeah I'm down with the idea that we all pay for the seats so we all have a right to sit. But there was an abundance of open seats when you sat down and you chose me in my orange Monday morning shirt? Why? What's worse is your meat limbs that you hold your newspaper up with are constantly violating my space. Finally, and I'm really not making this up, she kinda smells. I don't know if it's that garlic/onion smell some people get mixed in with the perfum she's wearing but it's pretty ill.
Ok get me off this train, it's starting to get nauseating.
Assessment: Good. Just kidding, Not Good. Bad. Awful. Check your girth.
Labels: experiment
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