I am not a fan of public displays of affection in most situations. I’m not talking about a quick embrace or a sweet peck on the lips. I am referring to the people who don’t seem to notice the 42 other people crammed into their train car as they attempt to devour each other.

I have recently encountered a number of these Bart lovers during the course of my commute. I just happen to be blogging from my Bart seat right at this very moment with a voracious pair of Bart lovers right in front of me. One half of this couple insists on tickling the other’s inner arm while the other longingly nuzzles her noses into the crevices of her beloved’s neck. These two are making love with their eyes and body language 2 ft away from me. Barf.

Over the last several months I have also had the joy of encountering the weekly Bart lovers. This pair is usually on the same morning train as me about twice a week. The first time I noticed this love-crossed pair was while on my morning walk to the train. They were holding hands, giggling and basically doing a post-coital cuddle right in front of oncoming traffic  while waiting for the stoplight. When the female turned I could see that her neck was emblazoned with her lover’s mark- a raspberry colored hicky the size of a golf ball. Hmm… nothing says romance like broken blood vessels on display.

Call me cold-hearted, a popsicle, whatever you like. Let’s just keep the train and the bedroom a separate affair. If not for your co-riders, than at least consider the millions of bart-based micro-organisms you are passing along by giving your sweetheart a little nibble.


About bartblogger

I commute. I work. I commute again. 5 hours of my life are spent on Bay Area Rapid Transit each week. My fellow passengers intrigue, inspire, disgust and humor me.
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