I really don't understand these rude people that guard the MRT doors every peak hour. Its as if they love to pack together to form a barrier so people cannot board the train. And if I were to mumble my apologies and 'excuse me's as I pass them to scuttle into the center of the train, hopping over bags placed on the floors and manouvering around arms hanging on to railings as if their life on a non-moving train depended on it, I have to avoid the angry glares and 'tsk's so loud they can be heard through my noise-cancelling headphones.
So sometimes, if the crowd is a little more acceptable, I try to suck it up and stay in my tiny corner by the door, breathing shallowly to avoid the BO of the person beside me or the morning breath of someone who happen to yawn (maybe I'm just more sensitive to smells these days). Maybe I'm just one of those who take my personal space too seriously but as the train takes off, jostling all the men and women squashed together like tuna, I really must give a small prayer to up above to let the train ride be shorter that day.
I can just foresee myself one day turning into one of those aunties that will suddenly burst out and give these people a good piece of my mind, while they all look on thinking I've gone insane.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)


No comments:
Post a Comment