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I'm standing in an aisle inside a subway train. As I hate "sniffers", and certainly do not want to be one myself, I try to get a hanky out of my pocket. Slowly I let my hand travel downward and reach inside. I feel a piece of cloth, get hold of it with the tips of my fingers, pull, and bring it up. When I see the hanky I'm puzzled - it's a white handkerchief, with red polka dots. I don't have handkerchiefs with polka dots, red or any other color.

The man next to me gives me a cold disapproving look. What is he looking at? Is there something wrong with me? Is my sniffing bothering him? I'm trying not to and it's the reason why I fished for my handkerchief. Only this is not my handkerchief. Is this polka dotted item perhaps his? Has my hand been in his pocket? I briefly consider asking him but decide against it. His face does not exactly encourage conversation. Slowly I lower the colorful hanky and go in search of my own pocket.

Ah, the joys of public transportation. Every regular passenger has a story to tell.

If one were to ask those passengers if public transportation should be free of charge, my guess is that the majority would say "Yes". If asked why, my guess would be that they would come up with a variety of reasons. Riders of public transportation, or buses, have to brave the elements. Rain or shine, they have to wait for the bus to show up and this can be anything from five to ten minutes.

Subway train riders have it a little better. After their bus ride they are no longer exposed to the elements, but they are far from comfortable. All shapes and sizes squirm to get to their favorite platform spots. Sometimes, they leave behind an overpowering trail of perfumes and colognes. While a single perfume may be pleasant to the nose, a mixture of six to ten can lead to a violent headache or a nauseated stomach when there is no escape for half an hour. Not to mention the highly offensive smells that can overpower an entire train when someone's deodorant fails.

There is no getting around it, people are packed like sardines in a can. Over the years both my feet have been stepped on; I have been accidentally hit in the face; elbowed in various places of my body; and shoved and bumped on a regular basis. Although my attackers' were very sorry about my discomfort, and apologized profusely, that did not make it any less painful.

Sometimes bus drivers try to show that they have compassion. On a really freezing cold winter day, they will allow more people on the bus than

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