I love San Francisco. I adore its weather, its beauty and its plethora of comedic relief in the form of the hippy. However, there is one tidbit about this fair city that I can't freaking stand. And that is simply, the lack of public transportation etiquette. I lived in Boston for 31 years before moving, and there were "Rules of the T." No, they were not written down, nor was there a class taught about the basic ground rules. But you know what, we waited until the people got off the bus or train before entering. Yep, it is true. And you know why? Because it is really fucking hard to get off the train when a sea of people are coming aboard. Also, we used the word "excuse me" when say brushing against someone on our way off. Yep, crazy Bostonians. Here though, I don't get it. Basically when the door opens it is akin to a football being snapped. Offensive (people coming on) and Defensive (people getting off). I have pushed, clawed and hip checked people on my way out at times. Also, I have this thing about strange people touching me, even the slightest contact sort of makes my skin crawl. Especially if they are sweaty. Thus my Frodo like tendency to "find the solo seat." Today, the bus was crowded - luckily I found a seat between two people who did not look like they would give me Ebola. I sat down, happy. Until the next stop brought a wave of person. Crowds crushed in, and I got a bit sick in my stomach. This woman before me stopped and sort of straddled my legs, and I could not help to think that she was trying to get off as she kept leaning forward invading my personal space until finally I moved my legs out of her bowlegged masturbatory grip. Repulsed and counting to 20 slowly as to calm myself from screaming bloody murder, I was happy in the fact that it is March 30. As I have moved, I did not renew my Muni pass for April. My only trip on the bus being a night trip to the gym, and at night, I don't fear my leg being molested by 70 year old poontang. So getting up 15 minutes early in order to walk to work will be well worth the effort, and the escape from the sick touch fest that defines a morning commute.