This post is derived off of the one I posted, oh I don’t know, five minutes ago. That’s because I pressed publish before remembering to actually tell you the strange things that occurred to me while on public transportation in Europe. 

Now maybe if you are experienced in the art of public transportation you have experienced these things before and they’re really not that interesting or bizarre. But for me, coming from where I do in Michigan, public transportation isn’t really a thing. I’ve never taken a bus anywhere unless it was big and yellow and took me to school when I was seven. Other than that, it has always just been me and my car, so experiencing a lot of public transport was new for me. 

Let’s begin in Paris and then work our way up to the more…memorable events. The night I arrived in Paris it was close to 10pm and I had to take the metro to get to my hostel. This is the first time I have really seen/been affected by drunk people on public transportation. One man in particular was quite, um, shall we say happy? He was dancing around the metro car as we careened toward the next station, swinging around on the poles and singing some random song (that I’m pretty sure he made up because there was no consistent melody) in French. I can speak some French, mildly and not that well, but there is no way I can make out the garbled slurring of a drunk man in a foreign language. He came up to me and Rupee, said some stuff–well, more like mumbled it to himself–and then continued to, and I kid you not, twirl around the pole closest to us, before skipping off the train and onto the platform.

No, really. He skipped.

Then there was our train ride to Scotland. With more drunk people.

I know some people get really nervous before travelling. These were not those people. These people were ready to party…

At 7 in the morning.

I’m not sure what it is about alcohol, but it tends to make people talk like they’re going deaf–or rather–they think you’re going deaf. Because of this, I heard every piece of the conversation happening with the group in front of me about law school and entirely boring conversations for a group of drunk people. If you’re going to be slightly intoxicated in public, at least embarrass yourself and entertain me. I have no mercy. It was a five hour train ride. I was bored. 

Coming back, however, the loud group of twenty-somethings certainly did embarrass themselves, though I’m not even sure if they fully realized it. I wish they had; maybe then they would have shut up and made everyone else that much less uncomfortable. I mean, excuse me if I don’t want to spend three and a half hours of my journey time listening to you talk about your sex lives, one night stands, horrible dates (that usually ended with sex–or on the topic of it), and STD’s. 

I don’t know if they thought they were talking in inside voices (they definitely weren’t), or if they simply didn’t care, but either way it was WAY TOO MUCH information. I agree, embarrassing or really bad date stories can be funny at times. But not on a train full of other people who can literally hear every single word you are saying. Because that’s how loud you are talking.

So loud. 

Why?

Those people you’re talking to, they’re facing you; they’re sitting right there in front of you. So why…why…why are you shouting? 

And to top it all off, it wasn’t until the train had come to a stop and everyone was grabbing their bags that the group started passing around the good old “it was nice to meet you!”

THEY WERE TELLING STORIES ABOUT THEIR SEX LIVES TO PEOPLE THEY DIDN’T EVEN KNOW! Forget the entire car who heard second-hand because they were shouting, the people they were consciously telling these stories to didn’t even know them. 

Little to say that was quite interesting…

Man, the things you can’t unhear 😦

Mel