En-Route Ettiquette Takes a Breather
As some of my friends know from my text messages en-route, the personal hell I call mass transit is full of colorful folks on the Downtown-to-Uptown line. Today, I got in line for the #4 bus behind
one such young man. The minute I ascended the stairs, I was enveloped in - not a slight whiff of - but rather drenched in an overpowering invisible cloud of pot. Continue reading ‘En-Route Ettiquette Takes a Breather’
