The ride home tonight was miserable. As if the evening trains don't smell musky enough already, the moment I walked into the train, I was welcomed by a very heavy scent of skunk spray. Instantly, everyone looked around for something that resembled a skunk, or what's left of it. No sign of a dead animal or parts of it on anyone's shoes. The scent was uncomfortably thick. I tried to go to the opposite end of the car, but the odor remained. In the absence of a clear evidence of skunk spray or residues, I instinctively avoided stepping or sitting on any sort of dark stain. But of course, on BART, there are dark stains everywhere on the seats and carpet, causing me to awkwardly tip-toe down the aisle to sit down on a seat that appeared less dirty.
The scent bothered me for about 2 stops, but soon enough, I became part of the scent. I felt it on my hair, my clothes, my skin. To make matters worse, the train got extremely crowded. I was dying for fresh air. But instead of fresh air, I got the breath from the man standing next to my seat. His breathing, in and out, in and out, caused the pages of my book to flip. I looked up at him to give him a hint that I did not enjoy his heavy breath. Instead, however, I got a way-too-close view of his huge, round, hairy, dime-sized nostrils. YUCK! After that, I feared that particles will be coming out of his nose with his breath.
Finally, I arrived at my stop. I dashed out quickly for some fresh air. I can't tell whether the skunk odor has penetrated my clothing, but I'm washing them anyways!