Oral Hygiene on the Train

This bearded, cap sporting hipster has the hades breath of a slaughter house on a sweltering hot July afternoon, and every morning this week, he has found a way to squeeze in near me on this crowded cattle car (of course we short a few cars during peak hours on a humid, 95+ degree Summer commute!) and exhale his toxic yawn.  

Elevator Etiquette Violation

I'm still taken back by the uncouth adult female who was so absorbed in her apparent importance Friday morning that once having cut through the crowd of us already waiting on the elevator, saw no issue in positioning herself strategically in front of the herd as she impatiently ripped through her mail, glancing up angrily to see the elevator had not yet arrived.  When the doors did open, civility be damned, she thrust herself in, colliding chest first with a group of women trying innocently to exit.  This did not phase her.  Without the slightest hint of apology to her fellow humans, she again thrust herself into the elevator.

Much to her dislike, I confronted her with her lack of self awareness and inquired as to what environmental variables we might attribute such rich audacity that allots for such a warped perspective that the 3 dozen other humans in the lobby were so easily deemed invisible if not lesser while the thought that those on the descending elevator might like to be allowed off before she thrusts herself in seemed to never even cross the threshold of her mind.  I was met with evil glares (no doubt she self justified her display of incivility) and not a few threats against my livelihood until I informed her that I do not work for her employer, but if I did...it would most certainly be in a capacity significantly senior to her, allowing me to be sure to then teach her a thing or two about vindictiveness and retaliation.  The elevator warmed with thankful smiles as she scurried off in a rabid rage on the 6th floor.   #Iaintsorry

Inconsiderate Vessels of Infection

"When I had strep last year..." says the 20 something year old office worker (between productive coughs) who is sick all year round from season to season, and she is talking to the chick who sneezes every morning at 11:18 AM.  It is once again time to incubate from all these sickly beings, as they were all seemingly raised in a barn without empathy or regard for their fellow man.  This office does not foster an atmosphere of martyrdom, but individual middle managers are notorious for creating their own subculture of shame that stigmatizes the use of sick days amongst their proletariate worker bees and desk jockeys.