Good (ness gracious me~) Morning Singapore
The day began with such a beautiful morning.
Really.
That was, until I boarded the LRT.
I was once again reminded why I would rather take the back-breaking, butt numbing bus service 75 to work each day.
So there I was, all dressed for work and smelling like a gazillion light years away ( I am trying to tell you that each morning, I douse myself with colonge, I will explain later) standing there, minding my own business. Oh yeah, did I say I was also trying to look my cool while trying to balance a big bag on the jerking LRT?
Soon, the LRT arrives on the next stop with me in it.
Then the whole world plunges into chaos.
Suddenly, a whole bunch of executives, students, aunties, uncles, you name it you have it, boards the train. Sometimes, it gets really bad at my station too. Sometimes, I travel the entire way on the LRT face centermeters away from the door windows. Each time the door opens, I have to make sure that the opening door does not open in my face. I kenna once and my glasses went hay wire.
Very ugly.
Really.
And so the journey continues.
Slowly, but very surely, the heat of the lump of collective bodies goes into the air in the LRT. By the third station, I am already perspiring. I have to travel a total of 8 stations. Now you know why I wear so much colonge. This is to make sure that I do not smell bad when I finally reach the office.
The MRT is worst.
So there I was, after a sigh of relief when my skin felt the cool air outside the LRT, ready again to board the MRT.
Although the MRT would not be as stuffy, it is more shaky and more crowded.
So there I was, wedged between an uncle in front of me, a lady on the 8 o'clock direction of me and another uncle on my 5 o'clock. The uncle in front of me has his arms stretched straight holding onto the poles. The lady on my 8 o'clock has her grip on the poles next to the seats next to the door. The other uncle barely has his grip on the train door.
And me?
I am in no man's land.
That one spot that has no where to grab should the train jerks.
And the train has to switch tracks from Bukit Batok to Jurong East.
I believe the lady got a shock when my hand suddenly shot out, hitting the lower head room above the door.
For a split second, there was a sudden hush in the train.
Then, you would hear stifled singgers.
And all my image is gone.
Not that I had any in the beginning.
I know I know.. I should not harp on the past. But in the past, all I had to do to get from my bed in the bunk to the office was to head down the stairs, cross a T Junction and I would be all happy and dandy in my office.
Really.
