MRT Blues

The MRT has become a microcosm of society. It has the poorest of the poor and the brattiest of the brats. What I recently found out is that it brings out the best and the worst in me. Its frightening.

My top pet peeve are the OBREROS, the construction workers who not only looks it but stinks like one too. I am not really after the brand labels, I just wish they clean up before being allowed inside. I know thats segregation, but who wants body sweat on your office clothes so early in the morning?

Actually, its not the stink I am freaked out about. Its the attitude. Most of them are hecklers and ill-mannered. Since they have the bulk, they force themselves inside an already over-crowded train. Try standing your ground against these juggernaughts and realize how puny your life is in this universe.

Such an experience is comparable to and the closest I will get to the tsunami catastrophe in banda aceh, indonesia. Believe me, its not a cherished experience.

They also have the baddest and the loudest mouths ever. Answer back at your own risk. If you value your life, I suggest you just look outside the window.

One time, I was squeezed in next to two of them and one said to the other: "you gotta problem? hey pal, everyone is just in a hurry to get home."  Had the other got pissed off, I would have been caught in the crossfire-- of blows and bad breaths. The thing is both of them were clearly squeezing themselves and others like me just to get in. The nerve, right?

My second pet peeve are the lovers dating inside the cab. I am not sourgraping, what gets my goat is that girl grabs the pole immediately inside, boy embraces the girl and blocks access to the inner corridor. Can someone ask them to get a room and not spoon inside the train?

One time, I pushed myself past a couple spooning in the train as I described. The guy went: "Whats his problem?" When I reached the relative freedom of the center aisle blissfully standing where the aircon blows fresh air, I gave them the look-at-me-now stare. Geesh.

But before I beatify myself, let me admit that I do physical harm there as well. Last week, I saw this geeky looking girl with those black, thick rimmed glasses and boyish hair. She was decent in her dark office blazer and skirt.

When the train arrived, there was this mad rush to the door as it opened. I saw a hand carrying a paperbag squeeze itself in from my left side. Obviously the owner wanted to secure a handhold inside the door past me. I thought I had the right of way being in front of the door, so I pushed the hand aside as I got pushed inside by an equally crazy mob behind me. I knew the hand got pinned and crushed by the throng of onrushing bodies.

When I found a seat, I scanned the perimeter for the offensive paperbag. It was geeky girl and she was massaging her arm which was probably badly crushed in the madrush. I mouthed a silent "sorry".

There was also this one early morning, as I got off the train, I saw this guy running from one door to another in a dark suit: coat and powder blue tie with the patent leather shoes and the F4/Dao Ming Zhe hairstyle. I text my friend, wondering how it was possible for him not to be sweating like a pig under all those clothes. Obviously, I thought he was overacting and overdressed for wherever he was going.

Then there was this time, when I was glad I was able to squeeze my butt in the bench. I shut my eyes for awhile. When I opened them, lo and behold, there was this crotch in front of me. No impressive bulge there, but the guy obviously left the bathroom in a hurry he forgot to zip up. I raised my eyes to facelevel, ugh! How utterly disappointing.

See what I mean. This means of transportation is an evil, evil influence on me. I wonder how bitchy I will be after a year of commuting via the MRT.