“The next station is…”
The train announces the destination of the next stop- “please keep all your belongings with you and report–“the announcement continues. As the train comes to a holt and the doors open the passengers alighting have to struggle their way towards the exit doors before being greeted with the piercing eyes of the new passengers eagerly waiting to pounce on-board. Even before the last passenger gets off the train or the gunshot sounds off its “Ready–Steady–Pounce“.
As you shuffle your way inside the train, you hear a cranky voice yell “move down -there is plenty of space“. A few sighs and KMT’s (kiss my teeth) are expressed from fellow passengers as there is clearly no space left to create in this sardine-canned train. Thoughts of frustration flow through your mind and perspiration builds up, even the breath of the stranger behind you makes you cringe. How inconsiderate is the person who has just let one rip- talk about bad timing.
(Lucky to those seating down)
The seated passengers have their own dilemmas from the lady who decides to apply her make-up on the train-with every MAC, L’Oreal or Estee Lauder beauty product she brings out of her make up bag she manages to nudge you in the process *how annoying*. Not to mention the passenger reading their Metro newspaper flicking every page with force as if you were to blame for what their eyes are seeing *did someone say paper cut* and let’s not go there with the hysterical sneezer (you never knew anyone could sneeze as much)
As your eyes wonder around you can’t help but notice the guy wearing the BEATS Headphones *damn those things are loud* The music echoes from the speakers as if they were transparent. As each song is played your tolerance level decreases while your headache escalates.
In an instant your nostrils are alerted by the different odours circulating- from the sweet perfume scents to bad breath and even last night’s body odour lingers on some people.
Your destination is announced
a sigh of relief escapes your breath. In your mind you are already mapping your next movements before you even leave the train. Your happy-ever-after moment is startled as the train slows down and stops mid track and the driver mumbles something about being held at a red signal…
Your watch reads “quarter-to-work” and 5 minutes later still no progress. Unlike the big bad wolf in the Three Little Pigs tale- no amount of huffing and puffing will move this train- someone should tell the impatient passenger who continues to KMT and grunt.
The rush-hour madness nightmare ends when the train doors open and the cycle begins for another passenger.