Train rides are fun (part 2)

 

When official signage (as opposed to ads) start to appear on the ground, it is not in response to an ageing society of crooked backs and low eye level. It is to cater to a new generation of screen addicts (低头族) who have forgotten the colour of the sky.

The civic-minded train passengers like me will queue up diligently at the platform by the side of the door. But there are always those sneaky ones who will cut queue and rush in when the door opens. Years of watching soccer has taught me defensive manoeuvres and man-marking tactics to ensure that I don't let in an early goal without a fight! 

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Our bodies pressed against each other, while she breathed on my chest. Her perfume lingered even at the end of the day. I'm blushing just starring at her. How I HATE squeezing into a packed train at rush hour like sardines on my way home, standing next to an old woman with pungent perfume and bad breath! 

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A pint-sized granny sat next to me on the train today and immediately assumed the self-appointed role of 'Life Guru' scrutinising the fellow commuters around her. She pointed to one lad's 'improper way' of holding the hand strap which could lead to 'dislocation of the wrist', and discreetly to another girl to inform her of her peeking bra strap. By then I had immediately sucked in my gut, half-expecting her to poke her finger into my love handles and proclaimed to the train "Ah boy, too fat!". Luckily I've arrived at my stop.

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My rush hour commute in a packed train is like visiting a Chinese temple where rows upon rows of imposing and immobile buddhas, deities and door gods materialise around me. And when I need to exit, I have to squeeze past them with whispers of "excuse me" or "sorry" to get their blessings. And you'll be cursed for life if you ever bump or step on them. Maybe I should have an incense stick on hand to pay my respect the next time, and the statues will give me a wide berth on my way out of the train. 

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I observed with much amusement at the train ticket office lady counting her stack of ten $5 notes a whopping five times. Two times is being meticulous with three pushing it, and five times is just plain OCD. Same as the guy who counted in his mind five times with the lady in order to make this observation. 

Train Rides are fun (Part 1)