“Don’t Breathe on me…”

Nothing good comes out of Logan, I’m moving out as soon as I get money.

Tonight I was on the bus and some young lass, hmm, no.. tramp sits next to me. I’ll set the picture, Imagine the following:

You get onto a bus, its nearly full, but you don’t mind standing, there’s no moron playing a shit song from his phone at max. volume, no one is coughing, there isn’t any homeless guy sitting in the back sleeping and there definitely aren’t any kids yelling or crying that you want to secretly shout at. You put in your earphones and you start listening to music.
Oh hold on, from a distance you see a figure stumbling towards your general direction, I can’t remember if she had shoe’s or any cheap substitute on, probably not, but she had a loose shirt on and was wearing trackpants, the official uniform of either an athlete (if you’re at the track) or a Derro (if you’re not at the track, stadium and maybe the gym). I looked around at my surroundings, check, definitely not an exercise environment, I safely made the conclusion she was probably from Logan.

Normally I wouldn’t care that people are sitting near me for random reasons but in this case she smelt of ‘eau de toilet’ (wordplay). I could smell layers of her, and they all gave off their own unique scent throughout the wonderful busride.

The top note was as I like to describe ‘Dirty Wet Rat’. This was the first thing I smelt when she sat near me. She smelt like a rat swimming in sewerage after eating half a tub of expired vegemite.

The middle note was what I like to describe as ‘The drunk Russian’. Essentially she smelt of Vodka.

I was on my phone and she kept observing what was on the screen, good thing I didn’t send anyone a text. I avoided eye contact at all cost because I knew she would talk to me, and it was an hour long bus ride.

She had a massive gap between her front teeth. Probably from opening too many jars and cans with her mouth. She also scratched her hair alot, which didn’t make me feel comfortable, I feel like I should have done the whole bus a favor and burnt her, like a witch. It’s what they would have done back in the day, and everyone wishes things were they way they were in the past.

She actually knew someone in the bus and had a loud discussion about how she scams people to join the gym and get’s free membership through their referral system, tattoos, drinking and another various mind enlightening topics.

Her base note was the smell of cigarettes with another pungent smell, Vinegar perhaps? She was sitting in the lotus position facing the seat rest, and would occasionally spread her legs to make a point in her conversation. Let’s just say the ‘aroma’ was heightened and I threw up in my mouth slightly and simultaneously got high.

I wonder if she purchased this unique fragrance. I guess i’ll never find out, looks like my friends won’t be having the ‘Dirty hooker essence’ experience anytime soon, unless they actually hire a hooker, or perhaps smell the hair of a unwashed homeless man. I would have loved to have presented a bottle of it to a friend as a gift, I’m sure they would have loved it. Oh well.

She later called the bus driver, ‘Gav’ and talked to him about drinking or the gym, I wasn’t paying attention, in which the bus driver replied with “Don’t breathe on me”. I laughed on the inside and made eye contact with someone else in the bus and we both gave each other one of those telepathic nods where nothing is said, but you both know exactly what you mean.

At the next stop he forced her out, she stumbled a bit, and walked out forgetting her bag. The bus driver gave her bag to her right before she caught some random bus that didn’t even go to her destination, Logan.

I should have asked for her number when I had the chance. But I don’t think people in her line of work are supposed to do that, She would have charged her usual rate of 20c anyway. Though it would have perfectly closed the gap in her teeth, help pay for her crack addiction and herpes cream I would rather keep the 20c in my pocket and away from her, just like everything else below my waist.

Lesson Learnt:
Starting fucking driving