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The Loop: Someone Squished Their Butt Up Against the Window Again :/

If you can believe all pieces of Chicago’s Transit Authority suffered through another week of things that are definitely funny to read about, but definitely not very funny if you’re an eye witness. To the guy who got coughed on by a homeless man again in the loop, we’re really sorry dude, but like also, please don’t talk to us. 

A big win for diversity this week:

Hey Scott, really glad you noticed how many people there are on the train too! Sure is crowded this morning, isn’t it? Now, can you look away from your fucking phone for a second and move yourself and your big ass backpack out of the way?! The doors are closing and I’m about to be late for meeting. 

Oh my god:

Sir! SIR! It seems like you’re trying very hard to press your butt crack against that sneeze guard, and boy it’s squeezin’ right through! It DOES NOT seem like anybody told the nice lady whose face you’re about to fart in. Please let her know, lest she get pink eye.

The Brown Line is for the bourgeois, but you knew that:

Transferring from the firey hellscape that is Red Line to a much more calm, sophisticated atmosphere where people tie their shoes and have the common decency to pee outside of the train car is a luxury only a few are able to enjoy every morning. Congratulations, Chuck.

Again, fuck the Red Line:

Jas, you’re right. I too will walk an extra 10 minutes to the Brown Line if it means I have the chance to sit down next to a nice old woman reading a Danielle Steel novel over standing in a puddle of coffee or piss (you can never be sure) while listening to the sounds of a clever man tap dancing with pop cans tied to his shoes. That being said, I did enjoy his rendition of Puttin’ on the Ritz.

The Yellow Line is an enigma to everyone who’s ever ridden the EL:

The Yellow Line does not exist, it’s just a teeny, tiny box car that everyone who ever needed to get to Skoki dreamed up so wouldn’t have to give up their prime parking spot just to make a trip to Pita Inn. 

The Belmont stop is where to find all of the cute boys:


Hoping that man figured out how close his butt was to that poor girl’s face, otherwise yikes.

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