AN OPEN LETTER OR P'SCUZE YOU.

Dear Mr. Man Sitting Next To Me On The Crowded 6 Train Going Downtown Today:

I felt very lucky to have a seat on the train heading home from work, seeing as it was crowded and crazy and I was totally pooped after a long night last night and work today. You, my fellow passenger, seemed like a normal looking, sleepy middle aged man who happened to be taking a nap during your commute home. You weren't going to be loud because you were asleep, you weren't wearing headphones with explosive sounds rocketing out of them into my personal ear space, and you weren't eating some sort of crazy a** burrito that smelled like dead dogs. Three points for you; we were off to a strong start.

However, looks and sounds can be deceiving and your excellent beginning quickly took a turn for the worst (and cost me my seat). I know this all too well after realizing that in your state of total and utter relaxation, your rear was taking full advantage of your slumbering condition and silently releasing loads and loads of toxic air - a continuous stream, I would say - that was asphyxiating.

To put it bluntly: dude, you were ripping nostril burning farts the entire train ride almost in perfect rhythm with your breathing and you didn't even flinch.

I hope you're doing okay, I really do, because something was obviously wrong with your inner tubings. Maybe earlier you ate the burrito that smelled like dead dogs and hence the dead dogs you let come out of you at 4:00pm with uninterrupted gusto. Regardless, save that release for a private space, preferably one that has excellent ventilation and one that doesn't have me in it.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Me