Its starts with purchasing a ticket, if ever you don't have the stored value ticket with you. During rush hours there would be around 20 to 25 people all lined up just to purchase. After purchase, here is where the real battle begins. Before reaching the turnstile, around 120(if you're lucky) to 200 people from work line up to pass thru it. Tiny steps until you reach it. You've got to shove your arms so no one cuts in line. The idiom breathing at your neck becomes an actual act. You need to learn how to comtrol your breathing not to inhale other people's scent, unless you enjoy it as some studies say.When you finally reach the turnstile, you got to open your bag and have it inspected by the guards. The inspections were implemented, since the bombing a few years ago by terrorists.
Upon reaching the platform, you'd be sorrounded by dozens of others waiting for the arrival of the next train. The first couch of the train is reserved for women (we still are a conservative race), elderly, and sick people. So if you're a woman, and lining up at the other couches, it's like granting a rape for all pass. Not that we deliberately bump women, but when the pushing and shoving escalates we're mere pawns to the moving crowd. You could enter the train without your will when this happens. A friend told me once that she felt like a top spinning as the crowd pushed thru the train doors. Once inside the train, the only space that separates you with the other is an inch or so breathing space. So if you're not lucky enough, you'd end up sniffing the nape of the one in front of you. What's worse is when you accidently brush your body, or arms to a sweaty fellow alongside. Worst is, you're literally leaning to another sweaty guy with body odor. Reminds me of a scene in the movie, Along came Polly, wherein Ben Stillers face got rubbed to his opponent's sweaty and hairy chest at a basketball game. The world in slow motion as you shiver and try to forget such incident. Then he smiles at you. The prick just smiled. Meaning to say he deliberately wants you to catch his sweat. The chattering of the people continues...
As each station pass, the crowd thins up and you'd begin to feel the cold air from the aircon. The drama is there's always hope in every situation. When you alight the train, you'd feel such great accomplishment having to go through all those mishaps.
Wait. What's that smell? Oh its my almost dry sleeve rubbed at another sweaty guy. I can't smell this way when I ride a cab home? Hell, yeah!
Thanks for the support I'm the 390th blogger at blogtoplist.com. Never thought anybody reads my stuff.