The PT Diaries #4...Live from Atlanta's Greyhound Bus Station / by Shanelle Gabriel

Imagine, even on holidays and outside of NYC I have a reason to blog my observations on Public Transportation.

I'm in Atlanta. It's the Sunday after New Years, and I just realized my random trip to visit my homie in Savannah, GA was badly planned. As my sister turns the corner to take me to the Atlanta Greyhound station (I hate taking Amtrak and I refuse to drive), my mom points to a distant street corner where a large crowd is gathered, standing and sitting on the curb.

My mom says, "Oh, it's Sunday. Probably a soup kitchen or shelter." Alas, was the Greyhound bus station. The crowd was filled with people rushing to head home for Monday work after a long holiday. Yes, I picked a bad time to want to be a Savannah tourist.

The Will Call line was longer and shorter staffed than the Ticketing line. I ask the lady in charge of the lines if she could help me since my bus would be leaving in 5 mins. She pointed to the line I was on and shrugged her shoulders. Loving the Southern hospitality. By the time I get to the front of the line, my bus has loaded and left. I get the time of the next bus and vow that this will NOT happen again.

I get back to the station an hour early. I'm proud of the fact that I'm on time and prepared. However, I was not prepared for the ticket pick-up line. It wasn't long. It was actually very speedy, and the lady was extremely pleasant. It was the person standing behind me that was extremely offensive.


It was a mixture of sweat, field work, armpit moisture, toe jam, and good old-fashioned funk. It was as if he was saving his bath for next New Years Day. Maybe for Christmas, he got a bottle of "Georgian Must" the New Cologne by Dem Franchise Boyz. (Thanks Tim for contributing that one).

You all know I'm addicted to Twitter and Facebook status updates, so instantly, I whipped out the Blackberry and started typing. The comments I got suggested I spray my perfume around me. Why should I??? It is not my fault his people didn't know Bath & Body Works had a Christmas sale. It is not my fault that some people only bathe on garbage days (I guess his fell on Thursday, and you know they're off on holidays).

I believe that in public places, just as they have a "No Smoking" sign, there should be a "No Funking" sign. People should not be allowed to funk up the place and inflict their stomach-turning odors upon poor, innocent Victoria Secret Love Spell body wash-lathering, 'Fancy' Perfume by Jessica Simpson splashing, washcloth using persons like myself.

This blog goes out to the people that waited on line at a restaurant, smelled the scent of Degree & Secret-less armpits in the afternoon, only to walk out without an appetite. To those who got excited when they saw an empty train car just to find out that it was evacuated the stop before you due to the smell of the homeless dude in the corner.
To the people that try breathing through their mouths, who offer gum politely only to be refused by the person that REALLY needs it, and to the person that gives everyone a hug but makes sure to give that one person a pound.

I feel your pain...

Just pray he doesn't get on my bus with me.