We've covered PTSD and buses in the mechanical sense from the number of posts about when I've had my startle reflex fired by air brakes discharging near my plump person; they're a constant menace.But now we move into the inside where the people are because they can be a problem. Buses are supposed to be like libraries or the elevator. People stay quiet and mind their own business. People are not supposed to yell.The drunk dude behind me, who later revealed he didn't know the day or time, on a mid-arvo ride got frustrated by the large number of passengers so shouted "JESUS CHRIST OF NAVARONE!", which is either a reference to the thriller The Guns of Navarone or the song "Navarone" from Jesus Christ Superstar, but either way he was sitting right behind me when he yelled it at the top of his voice.After being told in response to his later shouted question that it was Monday and mid-afternoon he bellowed something about him not even being supposed to be there.He also sneezed twice with no effort to cover and his drunkenness exacerbated the delivery.After his first yell and fight flight loomed I put fingers in my ears while I mentally prepared myself for more yelling before taking them away and enduring the queries about the day and time, his ironic presence and the sneezing. At the stop where most of us got off he joked to no one "TICKETS PLEASE!" then smugly stated that this is what bus conductors say.I felt bad for him. He was disheveled and old before his time and his day drunk seemed likely to be his every day and that is mad sad. I hope he gets help.But for fuck's sake you don't have to carry on in a bus packed with people whose only fault was using public transport. I should have moved but it was jammed with people standing. I'm big so I'd have gut-brushed people in any slow effort to distance myself from Captain DrunkYell.The CBT helped and it was only a 15 minute trip. But it was a long 15 minutes.This has been "Fun with PTSD and mass transit".