Dedicated to Grishny.

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Now for our feature presentation, Faux Pas Encounters the Worst Stench Ever on the Subway.

Starring Faux Pas.

I'm late for work this morning. The alarm clock is on the wife's side of the bed, and a good thing too because if it was on my side of the bed, I would never wake up enough to turn it off. Yesterday, my wife didn't have to go to work, so after she dropped me off at the bus stop she headed back home, got into bed, and reset the alarm for a while later. She forgot to reset it to the normal time this morning and we woke up all by ourselves about an hour late.

So we're late.

Getting ready, I notice on the weather channel that a giant green blob has passed over the Northeastern states again, which means rain and/or snow which means that the commute is going to be slow yet again. Our commute is always slow, no matter the weather. Sunny? Sun glare slows down traffic. Snow? Everyone crawls to work. Rain? Everyone speeds to work, slowing to rubberneck at all the accidents. Today, it's rain.

(We're getting to the subway. Hold on.)

We have to park on the street that is about two blocks from the stop because it's so late. My wife has to drag her computer bag over to the bus stop where she gets splashed by a slow-moving old person driving an inch from the curb. She could have surfed on this wave of brown water, that's how much was thrown up by the passing vehicle. This did not make her feel any better.

So now we're at the bus stop where we find out that Route 3 is closed due to flooding. Instead of the busses going from here to here to there to there, the busses now have to go from here to here, turn around through here, go there, over that way, then there to there to there, over there, and then back through that thing to get to there. Come to think of it, my wife really didn't have to go in today, so I told her to just go home.

Eventually, we got there, but "there" is the Port Authority building. Now I have to take the subway to work.

I usually take the E Train. It's a local, but it doesn't matter if I take the local or the express. The E makes two additional stops, but the terminus for the A (the express) is about the length of a subway train and a half further away from my final destination than the E's. Plus, everyone always crowds onto the express, just because it is an express.

Like all stories I tell, we're going to jump around in time a bit. A week ago, I was boarding the E to get home. You never get on the last car (the car closest to the turnstiles) -- that car is always crowded with the people who run from the turnstiles just to get onto the car. Similarly, you never got on the next car because these are the people who have realized that the E waits at the station for several minutes, but want to get on the car just in case. I usually get on the third or fourth car. Besides, those cars are right by the stairwells at the Port Authority which allows a faster escape from the subway system.

So that day one week ago, I noticed that the third car was fuller than normal, so I passed it for the fourth car which had very few people on board. Five people to be exact. Four people sitting down at one end and one human-shaped pile of rags at the far end of the train car. This woman reeked. She hadn't bathed in days, weeks. She probably hadn't changed her clothes since her last bath.

New York City has a homeless problem. Although I act callous about it, I am sympathetic. I do not give money to panhandlers, nor do I donate money to homeless charities. I would like to have enough money to make donations to deserving charities, but I don't. Even if I made more money, there are other charities I would like to contribute to. I hate feeling like that.

Regardless, the woman stunk. I got off the train and opted for another.

This morning, I got on the E train. It was the end of the morning commute time, so most of the cars were crowded. I boarded a somewhat crowded train and noticed a smell. Probably one of the stinky homeless people at my end of the car. I moved towards the other end of the car and got halfway through before the waves of foulness reached me. There, at the far end, the end I was walking towards was the same homeless woman.

I got off the train.

During this time, the doors were open on the car. There were at least thirty people on board that train car. Not a single one got off. The smell was one of offal. Disease. It was the stench from the week before plus another week's worth. If I stared at her longer, I'm certain the air would have looked hazy. This, I thought, is what the Middle Ages must have smelt like.

I'm serious. The stench arising from this homeless woman and her 55 gallon garbage bag full of aluminum cans was the foulest thing I have ever smelled. If I stayed on that car, I'm certain I would have vomited by the second stop.

But what gets me is the thirty or so people who stayed on the train.

-Faux "No, I'm not saying that Grishny smells bad or anything. He just wasn't able to read the story in RinkChat." Pas