The World is Out to Get Me

I wouldn't consider myself a bad or evil person, but it seems as though life has a funny way of making me out to be. To narrow down my statement, i'lltell you about last week. 

As if on cue, every single time I step on to the platform of the Frank ford-Market line train, something wrong must happen to me. I get on the train, already prepared for the worst mind you, and I see an available seat. I nonchalantly look around to make sure there is no one else around me or eyeing the seat, and when I realize the coast is clear I make my move. It's about seven forty in the AM and I got some hot chocolate on my way to the El, which had already spilled on my tan jacked, which was absolutely lovely(sarcasm). So I'm walking toward the chair, my drink at hand and when I sit I realize the chair is abnormally moist. As if everyone on the train knew exactly what was going on and what was on the chair, when I looked up; I had about twenty two eyeballs staring at me.  I ignored them at first but they just kept glancing back at me like they all had ticks in their necks, and then the seat began to feel strangely wet. Then I realized at the moisture of the still unknown liquid soaked threw my jeans that these heartless rude people where waiting for a reaction from me. I was so embarrassed first off because no one had the common courtesy to let me know before I sat down that there was something on the seat, and secondly because not only did I not see anything when I did check the seat but I had no idea what it was. As I hoped that death would somehow strike me now, I realized my stop was approaching and I agonized even more. I got up with disgust and very nervously turned around to look at my backside and to my surprise it was just water. But it doesn't end there, I had my book bag on the seat next to me and somehow there was urine on that seat! I literally gaged out loud at the smell! The first thing that came to mind was how the heck did I not smell it before that point, and I realized it was because I was drinking my hot chocolate and that must have blocked the smell, but i could have cried when i got up and walked towards the door and saw a hobo with soaked wet pants and an empty water bottle hanging from his oversized coat. I felt both pity and disgust as everything started to make sense. But I got off the train surprisingly not as upset as I thought I would be, mainly because I knew how everything had happened, and it wasn't just something crazily impossible that usually would only happen to me. But it was gross.

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