Why isn’t anybody sitting by that guy?
I often take the #17 bus home from work. It goes down Nicollet, turns right on 24th at the McDonald’s, and over to Hennepin. I don’t know what kind of SuperSized drinks they serve at the McDonald’s on the corner, but this Tuesday made the third time an Extrememly Drunk Guy got on the bus from that particular spot.
There’s no guesswork here — All three, I’m talking weaving down the aisle, shouting, stinking of gin, etc. The 5:30 in the afternoon kind of drunk.
Last time, a Really Drunk Guy sat down between me and another guy, put his . . .
