Metro Hell

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What is it with the smell on the rail? Oh you know it’s stench. You’re sitting on the Metro, waiting to take two more buses just to get to South Beach, and the guy next to you is letting of steam- yes, you can actually see a fog seeping out of his pores. You try to move around, but every other seat is as enticing as a bathroom on the beaches of Haulover and you unsure of the source fo the moisture on the bue-tinged cloth seats.
It make you wonder- why does everyone smell on public tranportation? Is it because they have to get up earlier to catch the train/bus than those who drive in cars? Perhaps a shower and shampoo fall by the wayside. And it’s not every single person the train. I certainly don’t smell. But it always seems like I’m sitting next to the guy who decides not to Irish Spring it. Or the older woman whose boobs are bigger than mine and therefore are sitting in my lap. And you can’t be mad at an old lady. That’s just sacrileage on a bus. I tend to sit in the Rosa Parks dedication section with the older people because they APPEAR less insane. This usually works in my favor. Until Grandman Saggy Boobs shows up. When on the train, I try to look for the Brickell Boys- older white guys who are wearing suits that usually get off on Brickell. These gems hardly ever venture past this stop and wouldn;t be caught dead on the bus. If they have a briefcase, even better! Because if something goes down, I want to be right next to THAT guy. He probably will have some MacGuyver-type tools in case that might get us out of a jam.
Now I understand that everyone does not have the means to drive around in a car. I am a former car owner who just ran into some horrible luck and a 1999 Toyota Corolla. In other hip, metropolitan cities across this country, public transportation is the preferred mode of travel. You can get anywhere on the El in Chicago. Some even find it exciting to travel around the subways of New York. However, if you want to check out South Beach or get dropped off at MIA Aiport after a Vegas-like weekend, then you’re screwed. But if you want to hit up the chonga-licious streets of Hialeah or take a scenic tour through Overtown, then the Miami Metro Rail is for you.

Keep it a Hot Mess

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