"I was riding a bus home from work around 10 pm, and a guy near me started feeling me up. I couldn't move quickly because it was crowded, but I kinda slithered away.
The guy got SUPER angry when I moved out of his reach and started yelling profanities at me. This got the bus driver's attention and he alerted the transit police who were at the next stop.
The police kicked the guy off the bus, but he was free to go, and then they told me that I should know better than to ride the bus this late.
Just a terrible experience all around."
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"I woke up one morning and immediately threw up. I dismissed it, figured it would pass, and got ready for my day. The bus was pulling out of the bus station when I got the spins. I put my fist over my mouth, closed my eyes, and tried to will it away. No good, it's coming up. I held my mouth closed and caught all of it, that horrible warm taste in my mouth. Glancing around at the other passengers - who hadn't noticed it - I slowly, painfully swallow down chunks of chicken nuggets from last night.
Whew, safe. Or so I thought. Here comes round 2, there's no stopping it, the dam that was my lips burst, and I exploded vomit onto the floor of the bus.
The bus went silent and everyone stared at me. A few of them were looking at me as though they think I'm day-drinking. I looked around at them with sheer horror and shame on my face, before silently reaching up and pressing the 'next stop' button.
What a horrible start to a day."
"I was on the Orange Line in Boston a few months ago. When I got on the train, there was a ragged looking man who I would assume was homeless or pretty close to it sitting towards the back next to a strung out young woman. He was rambling incoherently in her direction in a deep, gravelly voice that was essentially a Satan growl, if Satan had a scumbag Boston south shore accent.
As the train ride goes on, he gets louder and more coherent and it becomes clear that he is not pleased that there is an interracial couple on the train (black man, white woman). His remarks became increasingly vile, 'She's a disgrace to her race bringing home an [n-word]. If I were her dad, and she brought home an [n-word], I'd beat the crap out of her. Look at him, with a white woman!' Although he was facing the woman he was talking to, he was saying all of this really loudly so the whole train could hear it.
People were trying to mind their own business at first, but he was basically yelling at this point and he had obviously crossed a line and people were getting really worked up. All the men in my section of the train were making eye contact and nodding at each other, cracking their knuckles and rolling their shoulders and it was evident this guy was going to get the crap kicked out of him.
Well, he must have sensed the palpable bloodlust because he said to the girl, loud enough so that the whole train can hear, 'No one better come near me, I've got a needle in my pocket and I swear, they'll join the high-five club.'
I had no idea what that meant, so I kept mean-mugging the guy and cracking my neck and flexing my biceps violently and all sorts of other macho moves to show him how I felt about racial intolerance, but at this point, the mood on the train had gone from righteous outrage to scared. Everyone was just sitting with their eyes wide and looking straight forward.
The guy proceeded to spell it out for the denser passengers (me) that the high-five club means people infected with HIV. He is infected with HIV, he has a needle with HIV in his pocket, and he has used the needle to bring people into the high-five club before. He'd been saying all of this stuff to the woman he was with and never actually addressed the train or the interracial couple directly, but he was obviously saying it so the whole train could hear.
Well, I hate racial intolerance, but I also don't want AIDS, so I just stared straight forward like everyone else while the man launched into one of the most vile racist diatribes I have ever heard in my life, knowing full well he had a captive audience. Everyone got out at the next stop except him and the woman and he was cackling the whole time."
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"I was on a train in Queens, NY that hit a guy who'd been fleeing police through the tunnel. It stopped abruptly, then the lights and air went off since they had to turn off power to the third rail to go and get him. We were only stuck there for about an hour, but it was dark, and when we opened the windows to get some ventilation, we could hear him screaming in the tunnel. The guy survived with fairly minor injuries, considering."
"A man sat down beside me reeking of a day of drinking and body odor. He started talking to me, slurring his words. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't outright ignore him. He explained how he was an addict and how he had lost his family because of it.
Just as I was starting to feel sorry for him, a woman walked on the bus and passed us. He started to inhale deeply through his nose and mumbled that she smelled nice. He continued to do this with every single woman that passed and told me that he liked the smell of lady parts.
He then proceeded to tell me that he wished the bus driver would hurry up so he could go touch himself in the Starbucks washroom because he was getting really tingly now. And then he asked me if I'd join him. Longest ten-minute bus ride of my life."
"As a rider of the NYC subway system, the MTA is both my best friend and my worst enemy. They are always ready to get me somewhat close to my house after a night out, and at the same time, they play host to some of the craziest people in the city.
I ride the 7 train to work every morning, and it usually is beyond packed for most of the ride. Last week I got on the express train and wedged my way into the center of the train. Important to note that this places you furthest from the doors. Five minutes into the ride, a smell that I can only describe as decaying bodies in a marsh, soaking in an open sewer, makes its way towards me. The train is packed, smelling of BO and cologne/perfume, and this stench is added to the mix, creating what must be the worst smell of all time. I immediately gag, and the passenger a few feet away from me throws up, splattering another passenger who had the poor misfortune of being bunched up next to her. The smell now is borderline hazardous to my health, and the next stop is still 10 minutes away.
The train pulls into the stop, and the entire car empties onto the platform, with the exception of one passenger. As I am rushing out of the train, I see a homeless man standing in the corner, with a pile of feces on his shoes."
"I was 13 years old in Brooklyn, NY. A friend and I went to the movies about once a week. Normally, we went to one of several movie theaters in his neighborhood, but there were times when the movie he wanted to see wasn't playing in his neighborhood. This particular time we had to go way out to Manhattan to see the movie, so we took a train out, saw the movie and took the train home.
Because we lived in different neighborhoods, we had to get off at different stops. He got off his stop and I had to continue to the last stop so that I could catch a connecting train to take me home.
The subway car I was sitting in was completely empty. After sitting there for awhile, I do not know what possessed me, but I decided to move to another car instead of sitting there alone.
I got up and moved into the next car where there were people. I decided to move even further to another car again, but some leather-jacketed guy got in my path and told me that the other train cars were closed. I knew this guy was full of it, but I didn't want any trouble from him. So I just said, 'Oh,' and turned around and went back into the empty car I came from and took my old seat. That guy and his friends took my response as a sign of weakness and cowardice, which it was. I was a meek little 13-year-old abused kid with no confidence whatsoever.
I was sitting there in my seat when a metal dart landed on the floor at my feet, followed by an angry, gruff voice yelling, 'PICK IT UP!PICK IT UP!' I looked over to my right and that leather-jacketed guy and his friends (around a half dozen or so) poured into the car and came straight at me.
His dart guy friend was one of the first to reach me as he ordered me to pick up the dart again. I did so and then he ordered me to hand it to him. I did. Then he proceeded to throw the dart directly into my legs over and over again. I screamed and cried. I put my hands over my legs in an effort to shield them, but then he ordered me to move my hands away or else. I did and he proceeded to throw his dart into my legs again as he stood over me.
My memory is a bit hazy as to how the rest progressed, but I do recall that after the dart throwing they proceeded to use me as a punching bag. Fists flying into my face, chest, and stomach, several of them at the same time.
I managed to break free of these guys and made a run for the car door so that I could escape into the next car where there were people, but one of them was guarding the door. This guy was not taking part in my torture with his friends, he just stood at the door as lookout. I yelled, I screamed, I cried, I begged him to let me go, but he wouldn't. He threw me back to his friends. That guy, keeping me trapped in that car with his friends that very second, was the worst feeling ever.
Somewhere along the line, I found myself on my knees on the floor of the subway car. I reached into my pocket and pulled out all the money I had on me at the time, all the money I had in the world - a single dime. I held it out to them in the palm of my hand above my head and yelled at them that was all I had, please take it and leave me alone. I felt a leather gloved hand press into my palm and take the dime, but they still weren't finished with me.
One of them got the bright idea that he wanted to see my head go crashing through one of the windows of the subway car. So they grabbed me and actually started to ram me head first into the glass of one of the windows. Fortunately, subway car windows are strong and shatterproof. I can't recall how many times they rammed my head into the glass, somewhere from a half dozen to a dozen before they gave up.
Just before we reached the last stop, I was on my feet. I opened my mouth to say something and accidentally a little spittle came flying out of my mouth and landed on the leather glove of one of my attackers which earned me a slap in the face.
Finally, we reached the last stop. The doors opened and they ran out of the car, except for one guy who I assume was their leader, the same guy who at the beginning got in my path and told me the other train cars were closed. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and asked me if I needed a couple of bucks. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want anything from him. I refused his offer and he put his wallet back and walked off the train.
I went to the front car to report to the conductor that I was attacked. I banged on the door, but there was no one there. I walked off the train onto the platform. I saw a couple of cops with their backs to me walking away. I called out to them but they didn't hear me. I was too weak from the beatings to go run after them. They disappeared out of my sight. It was just as well. I never memorized my attackers faces as I tried not to make eye contact with them throughout the entire ordeal. I had forgotten what they looked like within seconds of them leaving the train. I would never be able to give an exact, positive description, and I never knew their names, nor they mine.
Defeated, I caught my connecting train. This time finding and staying in a car that was reasonably filled with normal looking people. The second I got home, I flopped into bed to go to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, my body ached all over.
I imagine my attackers, if they're still alive today, are somewhere in their 50s (at the time of their attack on me, they were all a few years older than me - I estimate late teens to early 20s). Some of them no doubt have families of their own today, wives, grown kids, homes, good jobs, etc.
But I'll also bet they keep it a secret from everyone in their inner circles (employers, coworkers, friends, family), about the time how they mugged and physically assaulted some young kid, a total stranger, for kicks on a subway train way back when. Their friends and families, wives and kids, probably look up to them, thinking they're the greatest, not knowing what lowlifes they really are and were.
I have never forgotten or forgiven them for the torture they inflicted on me both physically and mentally. I hope they all burn."
"This happened when I was twenty or so years old.
I was on the bus, and a little old Indian woman got up at her stop and started to head for the door. She was just a few feet away when she lost her balance and dropped one of her bags of groceries. She didn't react right away, instead staring at the groceries, then after a moment's silence, she proceeded to begin screaming at the everyone else on the bus in a foreign language.
One woman stood up and tried to help her pick up her fallen groceries, but the woman jerked away, shouted something at her, and turned her gaze to someone else. That person happened to be me, unfortunately.
To this day, I have no idea what I did to offend her. All I know is that she glared at me, then before I knew what had happened, her hand shot out and she slapped me upside the head. Now, this was a small, old woman, but she had one serious hook, and it hurt. I gaped at her. The bus driver gaped at her. Everyone on the bus gaped at her. Seemingly satisfied, she stopped screaming and got off the bus, leaving her fallen bag of groceries behind. No one said a word, and I spent the rest of the trip rubbing the back of my head."
"I was riding a city bus, and I was traveling alone. I usually try to sit up towards the front, near the doors/driver, just in case. This day, none of the front seats (aside from the disabled ones) were open, so I took a seat in the back part of the bus. This part had lots of ample seating, so I figured I'd get a seat to myself the whole ride. The next stop, this guy gets on the bus, looks around for a seat, makes a beeline to my seat and plops down next to me. I was next to the window, and he had the aisle so I had no easy way to get out.
I brace myself, fearing that this guy is going to be creepy. And he starts talking. I start thinking 'Oh, this dude is just developmentally off, not creepy off,' so I relax a bit. He tells me he's going to work and keeps talking about himself, which is always better since the creepers usually ask lots of questions about you. Anyway, he points out that he thinks it's cool that we're both wearing the same color shirt and that we both have a similar watch on. He reminded me a lot of the special needs kids I used to work with.
Then he sees my wedding ring. It was like a switch was flipped. He went from harmless innocent to creepy and was asking me tons of questions about my intimate life with my husband in pretty vivid detail. His body language switched too. He kept turning towards me and just kind of leered at me. He never actually tried to touch me, but I was bracing myself to fight back if needed. It horrified me how quickly he changed.
The bus slowed, and I told him it was my stop. I pushed past him on the seat, and he followed me towards the door. Since I didn't want to get off and have him follow me with less people around to help, I sat down in the disabled section, directly next to the driver. The creeper realized I was just getting away from him, sat in the closest spot to me as possible, and just stared at me. Luckily, there were about 10 people between him and me, and the driver was aware that this guy was creeping me out. The driver said I could stay on the bus as long as possible since I didn't want to get off and have this guy follow me home.
After about half an hour of him staring at me intently, he finally got off at a stop. I stayed a few extra stops on the bus, had the driver give me some suggestions for an alternate to get back to my original stop which I missed because I didn't want to be followed.
Thankfully nothing happened to me, but I often wonder if he ever turned violent with any women."
"In San Francisco, the Muni is known to be super packed in the AM hours. One day, my roommate was packed into the bus, dressed all dapper as he was going to work. As the bus was packed, he had to stand and hold onto the railing. As another wave of passengers got on, this one woman squeezed herself right behind him and they were basically cramped together in this mob of passengers. He started scrolling on his iPhone, checking out fantasy football news when suddenly, he started to feel this shaking coming from the woman. He thought she was just grabbing something from her bag, so he ignored it. The shaking started to get more vigorous, but still, he paid no mind to it.
Then a blood-curdling scream came out from the woman, prompting my roomie to turn around to see just what was going on. Her body was facing him and she was still shaking vigorously, but her head was turned towards the ceiling and her eyes were looking up. For reasons unknown, my roomie just thought that she saw a bat/bird/animal at the ceiling of the bus, so he too looked up to try to find it. While he was busy looking up, the woman began foaming at the mouth and eventually fell forward onto him, crushing him and lathering her delicious mouth-foam all over his clothes and neck.
He didn't give too many details about what happened after except that a couple of passengers on the bus were nurses that came to the woman's rescue. Turns out, the woman was experiencing a pretty crazy seizure right behind him and he paid no attention to it. Since then, my roomie refuses to use MUNI and still drives to the financial district every morning."
"I had spent the night out with friends in Copenhagen, lots of drinking from about 8 pm until 3 am in the morning, karaoke singing, snacking, more drinks, pizza, and lots of walking. We got to the train station and our train back to our suburb wasn't arriving for another 50 minutes. Suddenly I had to poop. I couldn't wait and searched in vain for a bathroom. I knew the train didn't have any and I was going to be riding the train for another 30 minutes, so matters were coming down to it.
I went above ground to find an open shop with a bathroom. None of them had one, so I spent most of my remaining time searching for anywhere I could possibly relieve myself.
Finding nothing, I determined that the far-off end of the subway platform was the only place that was suitable. I went down and hid behind a large column and dropped trou. A foul mixture of diarrhea and pee exploded out from behind and in front of me and some got on my jeans, making my 30-minute ride back all the more uncomfortable.
It was the worst. I went swimming in the Baltic and washed my clothes."
"I was riding the Long Island Railroad and sat in a 3-seat row against the train car's wall. Two other people sat next to me, the car filled up with a ton of people, and we're off.
I was busy toying with my phone for a while, and while I did, I realized the dude next to me was fidgeting a bunch, but I ignore it. It's not until we were 10-15 minutes into the ride that the guy in the outside seat asked him, 'Are you okay? You keep scratching yourself.'
The guy in the middle answered, 'I itch.'
I looked at him and realized he'd been lifting his shirt up to scratch at a huge rash that had spread across his chest and stomach. It was red, peeling, and oozing fluid all over him and he just kept scratching away at it, ignoring the other guy's obvious discomfort. Meanwhile, I was smushed between this guy and the wall with nowhere to go -- the car was too packed to just get up and move elsewhere.
Eventually, this guy stops scratching in order to lean his head against the back of his seat. I was desperately ready to reach my stop and bolt out of there when I realized that this dude was asleep, mouth open and drooling. And then his head dipped and landed on my shoulder.
I basically elbowed him in the face. He woke up, apologized, and then went right back to sleep. I managed to catch him before his head plopped into my lap, but got some of his spit on my fingers. When I reached my stop, I bolted out of there and took a very, very thorough shower."
"I was taking the bus home from school in NYC. I sat near the window and this old man sat next to me. I had my headphones on, but I saw him talking and looking at me. I then took them off, but he was talking to me about his wife or something. I was getting a little creeped out and I decided I would get off a few stops ahead and just walk home. When I told him I had to get up, he said, 'No stay with me, don't leave.'
At this point, I was super freaked out and I was like, 'This is my stop.'
He was like, 'Don't go, I want you to come with me.' Some other high school girls in front of me noticed his behavior and they asked me if I knew him and I said no. He refused to move so I could get up, though, so the girls became more aggressive, yelling at him to let me get up. He finally moved and I heard him telling them that I was his daughter.
I've had a lot of weird people experiences on NY trains/buses, but this one was the creepiest."
"I got on the 35th Avenue southbound bus at Metrocenter Mall when I was a teenager. I'd always seen people avoiding touching railings and other surfaces on the city bus, but never really considered why they'd choose to do that.
Across from my seat, there sat a man whom I believe was homeless. He had the distinct ragged attire, the heavy, heavy musk, and the look of a guy who spent a lot of time on the street in Phoenix, Arizona (read: horrible sunburn). Sometime into our trip, the man took off his shoes, exposing his horribly chapped feet (he was not wearing socks) to the open air inside the bus. The smell was atrocious. Then he pulled out a tube of some sort of ointment and began spreading and massaging it into his feet. The remaining residue he simply WIPED ALL OVER THE SEATS."