Singapore’s MRT has this amazing quality of bringing anyone’s day down, which isn’t great if that someone has already had a series of unfortunate events happen to them.
This strikes true for yours truly.
After fighting through the peak hour crowd at City Hall I breathed a sigh of relief that I actually got into the train, having missed two already. However after some looking about I realised that I had just gotten into what I can only describe as a Stink-o-rama. To my right was a Bangladesh worker who was holding on to the pole above with both of his hands, therefore effectively exposing his armpits, conveniently at nose height. To the left, two schoolboys who had obviously had a rough day of full on exercise and had obviously not bothered to shower. I don’t know, if they had showered then that probably means they’re never going to get laid unless they drench themselves in deodorant. Never.
I thought, okay I’ll try and be as positive about this as I can. So I buried my face in my laptop case and hit myself in the forehead with it. That was of course before I nearly got MOWED DOWN by some inconsiderate high-capped mat and his ridiculously ginormous backpack that was threatening to crush me into a lifeless lump of mush. I kept looking around and giving the back of his head nasty glares but that wasn’t really helpful to my cause.
Somehow I had managed to placed myself in the delicate position where people shove past you to get out their stops. By right, Mr. Armpits to my right should have been that person, but I think I looked like an easier target to conquer with my armpits safely covered and everything. So here I was, grappling with my bag that had torn a handle, carrying my baby Macbook Pro and making sure it wasn’t getting dented, being shoved forward by The Backpack of Doom and being shoved and jostled by random people trying to exit the train.
I think the last straw was when Backpack Mat finally was going to alight and I felt good about not having to deal with the Bulldozin’ Bag. He and his girlfriend were leaving when he stepped on my foot. Now, I’m incredibly tolerant when it comes to pain but I have to tell you that this mat was wearing the biggest Timberland boots that I have ever seen in my lifetime, and also that he was quite heavyset. I’m there in the train with tears prickling my eyes in pain as I look down at my topshop footwear clad feet as the mat and minah couple just swagger out.
So I decided to have a good cry at the horrors of life and mourned for my temporarily paralysed foot. Also I realised the smelly schoolboy duo were giggling at my predicament which was unfair enough. I mean, at least I didn’t smell like bad onions and they dare to laugh at ME.
Le sigh.
