Body odour, fart smells, bad breath, sweaty armpit stains, coughs that sound irritably loud and unsettlingly "phlegmy" and sneezes with droplets of saliva that parachute out of one's noses and literally, know no boundaries. We have all seen, heard and smelled it before within this shared public space known locally as the MRT.
Fate has a curious way of letting us discover what makes us comfortable and otherwise, simply by forcing us into compact little public spaces in close proximity with people whom we never know exist. Until. Well, you know such people exist.
Sitting on the MRT one fine, late weekday afternoon. It was off-peak hours and hence, I was happily sitting down, minding my own business when an old lady came in and sat right next to me. Minutes passed, and nothing happened. Then, she started fumbling in search for something in that deep, dark abyss of the handbag of hers. I thought nothing of it. UNTIL, a stray elbow jabbed me sharply on my upper forearm. I winced and looked at her, expecting an apology. However, she was still busy searching for something. (Gold, perhaps? Diamonds? Or maybe, her manners?) Who knows. I thought it was an accident and let it slide. Closing my eyes, I was about to return to my little snooze when another flying elbow comes again. Jab. Jab. Jab.
She couldnt find what she was looking for. And gave up, resting her arms above her handbag, her elbows spreading out much more than previously, and inevitably into my private space. I rolled my eyes and let it slide, again. As long as she stopped jabbing me, I am fine. A few seconds passed.
Maybe whatever she previously could not find might have suddenly reappeared in her handbag (like her manners, maybe?) miraculously and the elbow jabbing resumed again.
What did I do? Of course, I retaliated with a good, firm and mighty jab back at her shoulders. Heck, old lady or not. Rude is rude. She looked at me in shock, as if a sudden realisation had occurred that someone might actually be sitting right next to her. I stared firmly straight ahead, refusing to give eye contact. She paused.
I held my breath.
Will this be the start of the Battle of Elbows and Arms?
Nothing happened, for a short while. I let out a short breath. Suddenly, a jab came right into my forearm. More vindictive and purposeful, this time. Before I could react, the MRT doors opened.
And she was gone.
Damn you, old lady. Come back here! The war is not over till I say its over!
But my cries of silent outrage went unheard.
I lost the war.
The MRT door opened, a person stepped in.
Will he be my next contender?
I closed my eyes, poised and ready for a potential first attack.
xx
Loves,
Nices
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