More Public Transport Events

I don’t know why, but a public transport is definitely the place where the weirdest, quackiest and sometimes most annoying and disgusting things happen. I always see people doing weird things on the bus without themselves knowing that it is so strange. Or completely embarrassing.

So let’s begin.

1. The Guy Who Rolled 
That particular morning on a 174 double-decked bus, I was enjoying my M&Ms chocolates sneakily while reading The Supernaturalist, feeling the blasts of delicious cool air on my sweaty smelly neck.


What a pleasant morning, I thought, glancing out of the window into the brightening day beyond the glass.

Just as I was about to pop my last M&M into my mouth, I heard a loud, guttural cry of

“ARGHHHH!”
followed by a really loud crash that sounded like an angry man just threw an oil barrel down 19 floors because he found out that his wife was cheating on him with his brother, no less. Was it a younger or older brother? You ask. I don’t know either, I made that up, you know? And that was not the main point.
The main point was that I was so shocked by the resounding crash and the cry of anguish that I flinched in my seat and bit my thumb and forefinger instead of the M&Ms, and damn! I have some really sharp teeth! 
I almost drop my last M&M chocolate which was a lovely shade of brown. 
That’s right, I craned my neck.
Anyway, I was seating at the seat right in front of the staircase leading to the upper deck, so I just had to twist my stiff body around and crane my neck like a….crane to see what was going on. 
Although it might seem that a lot has happened before I actually stuck out my very long neck for this kind of k-poing business, me biting my fingers and consequently craning my neck actually took place in a matter of  few seconds. I have fast reaction, I have to give myself that.
So now you get the idea. The loud crash, then Kira flinching, biting her fingers and craning her long elegant neck all at the same time.
What I saw shocked my so much that I almost choked on my very unfortunate M&M. (Do remember that it is brown).
This very very very large man in black tee shirt was ROLLING down the stairs, yelling as he fell, head of heels and eventually landed with a very loud THUD.
He even lost a shoe.
The shoe sat, somewhat glumly, on the stairs leading up to the upper deck. 
Now, being the very k-po (but unhelpful too, I have to say) people we are, half the upper deck folks CRANED their impossibly short necks and tried to peek into the stairwell to see what happened. 
This middle-age man that is slightly balding and clutching his laptop bag caught my attention. He did not just tried to peer from his seat. He promptly stood up, and rushed to the stairs.
I was nodding very approvingly, thinking that he was going to lend a helping hand, when this look of boredom cross his features and he promptly went back to his cherished seat and fold himself into this immobile, expressionless statue again.
Tsk, I thought, such a unhelpful fellow. My heart shook its head at the man.
You didn’t do anything either, my brain chided.
True that, my conscience admitted, hanging its head.
Back to the man who rolled his way down the stairs. I thought he was dead, or at least suffered a concussion and was hence unconscious. I peered harder into the stairwell and tried to see what happened.
Apparently, he had not passed out, much less dead. In fact, he picked his great body off the floor with a loud huff, and dusted his shirt. 
Sometimes you have to admit that fats are pretty good cushioning materials.
At this point, a very hoarse, scratchy and phlem-ish voice could be heard. It was the bus driver. The voice sounded like that of an old man’s. Apparently, the old bus driver was asking the fallen man in a very gruff voice whether he was okay, and told him (somewhat huffily and fiercely, like the man planned to fall down) that he should be more careful and not fall. 
The large fallen guy replied shortly, “Okay okay.”
Now before you criticize the fallen guy to be rude, I kind of feel that it is the driver’s fault. He should have waited for the dude to finished going up the stairs before speeding off, no? Now that the guy falls, the bus driver was berating him in this gruff, grumpy tone that somehow implied that it was the man’s own fault for falling so unglamorously. I felt that the driver was trying to shirk his responsibility should anything bad happens.
The large guy continued to climb the stairs, despite himself snowballing down the stairs once and nearly breaking his short neck, and sat himself….
right in front of me.
Now that was nothing bad at all. I continue to scrutinize the back of the plump little (oxymoron intended) man and wondered if I should offer him a tissue to show that I cared. But would that not be ridiculous? I mean he was not bleeding (not externally at least) and definitely was not crying. So I couldn’t give him a tissue.

So I decided to offer him an M&M.
Feeling around in my saggy M&M chocolate plastic wrap, I found none.

HRRRRRMPH! I thought.

I felt around my mouth for the M&M that I popped in before he fell. None. No more. All disintegrated into chocolatey delights and had slid down my throat when the drama was unfolding before my eyes.

I felt a little sad that I couldn’t enjoy that last chocolate and felt pretty cross indeed.
Hiyaaas.

Another shock when I left the bus.
The bus-driver, whom I thought was an old man all along, turned out o be a middle aged lady with a croackish voice.
Damn. 🙁
[Author’s note: chocolate part was dramatized to make myself seem more shallow and self-centered]


2. Pedophile Sightings
People who take 174 to school, especially those who take from the interchange should know that there is this old Indian pedo on the bus.

When I say old Indian pedo, I am by no means exercising ageism or racism of any sort. You guys should know all these details to avoid being the next target.

I didn’t look at the Pedo closely, but yes I can tell from the one glance I took when I sat down, he was definitely old and I am sorry Indians, he is Indian.

Phiephie encountered him countless times. I encountered him twice. I shall, of course, recount my traumatizing experience first.

That particular morning I boarded this relatively okay 174, like medium crowded. By medium crowded I mean that all the bottom seats were taken and there was almost no standing passengers. I hopped onto the upper deck, and spotted that one LONE seat.

Next to the Pedo.

Of course at that point of time I didn’t know that he was a Pedo. I don’t jump to conclusions like that. I sat down, secretly pleased with my own luck for finding a seat. I retrieved my Biology notes and started reading them to prepare for my coming quiz on that day.

Then I realized that that Pedo-to-be had been fidgeting since I sat down. Like little jerky movements which was very distracting and very annoying. After 3 or 4 minutes of the fidgeting, I could stand it no longer, and turned my head very slightly to see what on mother earth was he doing.

Trust me, I regretted it. Or maybe not.

He had his hand in his pants and was doing this jerky movement thing in his pants.

I was stunned.
I looked up into his face to see if he was intending to stop doing that disturbing action, and good lord, he grinned at me (salaciously). =cough cough, thank you EL James=

I took one look at his disgusting grin and fled from the seat, jamming everything into my file as I stumbled onto the lower deck. I didn’t want to confirm or find out what exactly he was doing inside his pants, whether or not he was masturbating, I didn’t want to give him the benefit of doubt because I didn’t feel the need to sit there and tolerate things that made me so uncomfortable.

So that is the end of story one.

The next time, I was sitting down, and he sat down next to me. I was placed at a disadvantage by being in the window seat. He was sitting in a way that intruded into my personal space. Let me describe it to you.

Clasp your hands in front of yourself. Then bring out your elbows such that they stick out maximum distance from your body. Then place your clasped hands on your private part, remembering to keep our elbows out at max.

Now you have it.
And that stupid elbow was jutting into my pelvic bone.

At first I thought he was asleep, so I thought that that was a very very queer way to sleep indeed. So I squirmed a little away from that stupid interfering elbow. Minutes later, his elbow was there again.

At that point I felt like looking at him like that.

“What sir, are you trying to do?”

I wriggled in my seat, trying to wake that nasty fellow to get him to remove his elbow. He persisted in sleeping.

So I elbowed him.

His eyes fluttered open, and closed again. He elbowed stay there, comfortably.
GRRRRRRrrrr.

No choice, I plastered myself so that my back was facing the crook between the window and the seat, and I was sitting in my seat diagonally.

Finally, we reached school. That Pedo with the failed acting continue his little snooze. I smartly tapped him on his shoulder. His eyes open almost instantly, bright and clear, not like those of a sleeping individual. He looked out slowly, and inched his fat legs away from the seat in front to let me pass.

The space he made was so small that a field mouse cannot squeeze through it.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed through.

Hateful fellow.

Now, if you are planning to tell me that none of the aforementioned action of his was intentional, I will happily smack you on your head. I can tell you that I am not the only one. Phiephie encountered this Pedo countless times. Always having the elbow out at full, trying to dig into girl’s pelvic bones. According to Phiephie, all the girls who are unfortunate enough to sit next to him had sooner or later moved into my diagonal position, Phiephie herself included. And he always try to make girls squeeze through very narrow cracks such that their legs/hips will brush against his disgusting legs.

Terrible, I say.

Beware girls, get up and move if anyone is making you uncomfortable. You have the right to not take all these shit. You have the right to move, to speak up and to confront the man if you feel like your personal space is being invaded.

3. The HCJC guy and his bag.
On 852. This guy sat next to the window at the first row of seats. I sat down immediately because I didn’t want to jeopardize my chances of sitting down by hunting for better seats.

He has this HUMONGOUS bag which slid off his legs and rested half against me, and he was taking up 3/4 of the two adjoined seats.

Each time the bus turns a bend, I almost slid off my seat. But that selfish fellow paid no attention.
In the end, I was so irritated that before I left the bus, I scrawled the following message onto my class list, unfortunately (as that was the only paper available, and I could waste it; and I had it because I was monitor -puffs up in pride- last year):

Next time, please keep you and your stuff within your own perimeters. Thank you very much for your consideration.

Oh wells.

I wanted to blog about this one time when the air-con broke down, but my fingers hurt, so I shall stop here.

And here is something interesting when I was blogging.


This guy is really quite funny. Hehe.
Meanwhile, he continues to type:
“I wanna keep in touch with you to upgrade my English, could you help me ?”

Sure laddie. Even though English is not a computer and you can improve but not upgrade it. Okay okay, sorry, just amused. Won’t be mean, promise.

So I said:

“Haha sure no problem
Ask me anything”

He went:

Thank you ! what are you doing now?
I said:
Blogging (:
Haha
The Guy:
in fact, my friend gave me a hand to chat with you… i am so afraid if i can’t use my english well

Okay Okay I shall not reveal anymore. Byebye.
WAHHH my fingers hurt.
Btw, I steamed my thumb today, and it hurt for one whole hour. Was really red too. ;( Someone please comfort me. 🙁

kiraknightyy

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