An Ode To Public Transit

So I'm waiting for the bus today, in the lively, rotting core of Hamilton (yes, Gore Park). The benches were occupied, and I don't fancy myself to be above sitting on the sidewalk, so I did just that. I put my bag down beside me, and read my book while waiting for the 26. From behind, I get pegged in the head by something kind of wet (at this point I'll mention that my iPod is on full blast). I turn to find a dog's face about an inch from mine. I remove the iPod, somewhat startled. The owner to whom the dog belonged then began to pet my head; it was then that I realized this was a seeing eye dog. Not wanting to confuse the fellow, I spoke my name and told him I was sitting near where he was standing on the sidewalk. iPod goes back in, I resume reading. Wouldn't you know, another dog whams me in the head. Basically the exact same story as aforementioned, but different dog, different fellow. I took this as a sign to STAND and wait. I think it worked out for the better. Seeing eye dogs are so cool.
The bus smelled like salami and BO (or maybe salami just smells like BO). I tried to ignore it, but to no avail. So I tried to breathe through my mouth, but then I could taste the salami/BO combo. I opted to open the window and continue nose-breathing. Then of course I worry: now when I get off the bus, will I smell? I probably did. Oh, well.