'I had to take out my nose-ring, they didn't like it,' lamented a fellow, slightly intoxicated, commuter on the 96. It looked like she was discussing her day with her extremely attractive boyfriend while those around her glanced nervously out the tram's window, hoping their stop would magically appear next.
I didn't mind her slightly loud, slurred monologue. I was quite enjoying it, although I was jealous she'd managed to have a drink (or ten) before I had gotten home from work. Oh, and did I mention her boyfriend was hot?
I love the 96.
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