6:31 pm Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Bleah Pit
I don't know what's wrong with guys in general. They don't seem to understand the concepts of hygiene and personal space. (This is not a sweeping statement: how many times has your nose retched from the odour of smelly unwashed uncles?)With my new job, my daily commute has changed from bus 147 to the NEL. In comparison to the bus where you have a fixed space (if you're lucky enough to grab a seat), the mrt is like a chicken cage, and all of us, battery chickens. There's barely enough space to maneuver or anchor ourselves to prevent humiliation when the train jerks (i don't get those office ladies who still venture to wear stilettos). And more often than not, inconsiderate people wrap themselves around the poles so everyone around them has no way to hang on for balance. Well, i guess we can't blame them if they have no backbone to support their bodies.Anyway, since everyone is packed together like sardines, it makes sense that we know one another wants to be as comfortable as possible for the rest of the journey. But as Singaporeans are themselves... it's too much to ask for people to think of others. This morning on the way to work, i was stuck underneath the row of 'holders', with people standing in front of and behind me. And this big-sized guy on my left decides that it's time to air his armpit. Raising his right elbow high above my head, he encroached into my personal (and breathing!) space. Hello, being big doesn't give you the right to bully smaller people like me. I was giving him the dagger stare the whole ride, but guess he didn't see my reflection in the glass window. What did i expect? When it's time to reflect on their actions, people on the train have a mysterious illness that makes them fall asleep instantly. Even when standing.Labels: Cynic In The House
>
