You bring the guns, I'll bring the elephants.
Some commuters ought to be shot and then stamped on by a horde of elephants. Ever see those people who rush for seats in the MRT? The swine. When the train arrives, you see them all squashed at the doors, eyes darting left and right, looking for that golden empty seat. The moment the doors open, they charge in like they're being chased by rabid dogs. They'll take the shortest possible route to that seat even if it means stepping on your feet or jumping over your shopping bags (I have witnessed with my very own eyes, 40-ish aunties jumping over baby prams with the grace of Olympic hurdlers).
The best part is that when these oafs sit down, they smile! The asses wiggle their butts and smile to themselves! To make things worse, it's that self-satisfied-I-have-made-it-in-life type of smirk that makes me wanna smash their faces in with a ladle. These are the type of people whose life ambition it is to be a McDonald's manager.
Lacking a ladle, the least I can do is make things slightly harder for them. A sudden step forward or backward is usually enough to cut them off. Their reaction is always the same. They'll stop abruptly and mutter “tsk” under their breath. If you still don't get the message, they'll reinforce the first “tsk” with “tsk tsk” while glaring at some indeterminate part of your anatomy. They will NEVER EVER look you in the eyes and they will never say “Excuse me” or, heaven forbid, “I'm sorry”. They just “tsk tsk tsk” and then tread all over your toes.
The best thing that can happen is two or more of these toads arriving at the same seat at the same time. Inevitably, it'll be the most massive of the lot that gets to snuggle its butt in the plastic chair but at least someone gets disappointed no matter what. This gives me immense gratification. I'll call my psychiatrist later.
And then there're those who like to stand but who do so while holding the horizontal bits of the grab poles. That means their arms go directly above their heads. They look like bodybuilders trying to kiss their own biceps. In humid tropical Singapore, standing downwind of one of these armpit-baring specimens is like standing downwind of a shitting cow. The stench is so all-engulfing that you start to wonder if YOU are the one that's stinking. This is severely unfair because you start sniffing yourself which makes you look like a total fool and the people around then start suspecting that YOU are the source of the stench.
So you try to move cars. But guess what? You trip cos some ass is stretching out his daddylonglegs 6 feet in front of him and he gives you the eye cos it's your fault that you tripped over his limbs, thus dirtying his pants and causing him untold amounts of grief. Most likely, he will “tsk” you as well to which you should react in the most honourable manner imaginable - by cursing his mother.
Whatever it is, it has come down to this. You bring the guns, I'll bring the elephants.
The best part is that when these oafs sit down, they smile! The asses wiggle their butts and smile to themselves! To make things worse, it's that self-satisfied-I-have-made-it-in-life type of smirk that makes me wanna smash their faces in with a ladle. These are the type of people whose life ambition it is to be a McDonald's manager.
Lacking a ladle, the least I can do is make things slightly harder for them. A sudden step forward or backward is usually enough to cut them off. Their reaction is always the same. They'll stop abruptly and mutter “tsk” under their breath. If you still don't get the message, they'll reinforce the first “tsk” with “tsk tsk” while glaring at some indeterminate part of your anatomy. They will NEVER EVER look you in the eyes and they will never say “Excuse me” or, heaven forbid, “I'm sorry”. They just “tsk tsk tsk” and then tread all over your toes.
The best thing that can happen is two or more of these toads arriving at the same seat at the same time. Inevitably, it'll be the most massive of the lot that gets to snuggle its butt in the plastic chair but at least someone gets disappointed no matter what. This gives me immense gratification. I'll call my psychiatrist later.
And then there're those who like to stand but who do so while holding the horizontal bits of the grab poles. That means their arms go directly above their heads. They look like bodybuilders trying to kiss their own biceps. In humid tropical Singapore, standing downwind of one of these armpit-baring specimens is like standing downwind of a shitting cow. The stench is so all-engulfing that you start to wonder if YOU are the one that's stinking. This is severely unfair because you start sniffing yourself which makes you look like a total fool and the people around then start suspecting that YOU are the source of the stench.
So you try to move cars. But guess what? You trip cos some ass is stretching out his daddylonglegs 6 feet in front of him and he gives you the eye cos it's your fault that you tripped over his limbs, thus dirtying his pants and causing him untold amounts of grief. Most likely, he will “tsk” you as well to which you should react in the most honourable manner imaginable - by cursing his mother.
Whatever it is, it has come down to this. You bring the guns, I'll bring the elephants.
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