The Colour out of Space...or...the smell on BART

The whole "Colour" reference (in case you don't know) is from an H.P. Lovecraft story. Basically, the object from space drained life from all around it in addition to causing people to lose their minds.

That's kind of what happened on BART this morning.

I don't know what it is about winter, but sometimes if it's damp in a train and the heater is blaring it facilitates the production of a considerably horrible body odor. I call it: ass-foot. It's like someone took off his/her sock and waved funky old Dorito cheese foot stank into the air. Then someone completes the duet by unleashing last night's dinner and drinkfest vapors via a butt delivery vector. This all happens at least a few stops before yours. People from the previous stops have time to get comfortable, stretch, wave a stank wand and relax their o-rings in order to rip hot ass-trash bombs into the seats.

When the train stops at your station and the doors open, you can't wait to get on because it's cold. Then the smell assaults you. Rather, this invisble stink beast shoves its putrid hands up your nose. There are 2 year old ass boogers, toe jam, and other unmentionables that would show up under a black light under the fingernails of this creature.

You just have to take it. Sit down. Hold your breath for 20 minutes. Know that the smell is permeating your clothes, your hair...your SOUL. It's rancid. You have to shower and perform an exorcism on yourself when you get to work.

Anyway, that's kinda what it was like on the train this morning.