New York Story: A Hairy Situation

One of the most common questions I get is, "why did you leave New York City". The story I am about to tell you perfectly illustrates why I left the city. 

I only had to take one bus to get to work. I would walk from 138th street up to the 145th street to take the BX19 bus to the Bronx. I liked to take the bus at 6:15-20ish because it is never super packed that early in the morning. This particular morning I was a little bit late, so I got on around 6:30. The Broadway and 145th stop is only the 2nd one on this route, so I was easily able to find a seat at the back of the bus. 

I was sitting in a seat that was in front of the last row. We were 2 more stops in when a homeless lady walked onto the bus and sat in the last row, directly behind me. At this point the bus was pretty full, so there wasn't anywhere to move. She smelled putrid, she had obviously just pooped her pants and the entire bus smelled like it. I thought I was going to throw up. I was wearing a mask and I could literally still TASTE the poop permeated air. I quickly pulled out a Chapstick and shoved it under my mask, trying to find relief from the oppressive smell. 

People around me kept giving the lady disgusted looks and moving away from her. I didn't want to make her feel bad, so I didn't move with the rest of the people. Most of the bus was shoved in the middle and front because no one wanted to be close to her. I was the only person left in the back because I didn't want to be rude. It felt like the slowest bus ride of my life. I kept counting down the stops and praying that she would get off. 

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The smell literally enveloped me. I was wrapped in the smell of poop and no amount of name brand Chapstick was going to save this situation. I was 10 stops from my school, and I decided that I was going to get off and try to catch the next BX19 bus. As I went to stand up I realized in horror that I couldn't get up. My hair was caught in something. Optimistically, I thought it was caught between the seat and my backpack. However, reality soon came crashing down around me. 

The reason why I couldn't get my hair unstuck was because the homeless lady had her poop fingers laced through my hair. My eyes grew wide, my heart sank, and I wanted to throw up. I ended up walking the whole way to the school from Concourse Ave. As I walked I kept catching whiffs of the atrocious smell. I soon learned that it's because she had spread literal shit in my freaking hair. 

I couldn't take the day off, so I tried to wash the crap out with hand soap in the school bathroom. However, there is no amount of hand soap in the world that could wash out that smell. Every time I moved throughout the day my nose was assaulted. 

This experience literally traumatized me. As I washed my hair for the fourth time when I got home, all I could think about was figuring out a plan to leave NYC.