Strange People In Trains

I've always subscribed to the fact that people are strange. We all are and that makes life interesting. Other people's strangeness (I believe that's a term in quantum mechanics) bearable as long as they don't get in my way or make life in general uncomfortable for me or society. When strange people start being rude or uncaring, then it's time to step in and correct the madness.

Singaporeans can be mad and many of them take the trains. I take the train to work everyday and am arguably slightly insane too. I see many silly things people do and not do that sort of inconveniences their fellow commuters.

There are commuters who
- make it their life mission to get a seat. You see them scamper into the trains, with eyes darting about, looking for a shiny plastic seat to plonk their asses on. They teach their children to do the same. It bothers me when they look for empty seats in greener pastures, meaning they try to weave their way past standing passengers to get to other train cabins without a whimper of 'excuse me' or 'sorry'. It's like they have a right to slither about looking for a dark cave to curl into.

- lean on grab poles. It's as if they have no spines and need an external support mechanism to keep upright. No one else, in mid-fall or otherwise, can get two-fingers on the grab pole because it's just gross touching a stranger in hot, sticky Singapore public transport. These individuals wedge the pole between their butt cracks like a slick manoeuvre used for docking the space shuttle at the International Space Station. When the trains jolts or comes to hard stop, the pole wedgers clench butt cheeks for maximum grip as everyone else around them pick themselves off the floor. Shame on them for not sharing.

- think taking a nap on reserved seats disavows them of any obligation to give up their comfortable spot. Just the other day, I followed a man on crutches into the train at morning peak hour. Poor guy had only one leg. He took a spot leaning on the glass panel beside the door, holding crutches in one hand, other hand gripping a grab pole. In the 2-3 minutes to the next station, no one did anything. I stood watching the tension build. The guy opposite the disabled man was freaking out. So were a few others standing nearby. I could sense them calculating the possibility of disaster from the looks on their faces - the head slightly down, eyes looking up every 5 seconds to see if the man was going to lose his balance, glancing at seated passengers hoping the telepathic connection between nervous people would prompt some of divinely intervened action.

So when the train slowed to a stop, I tapped the man's hand and asked if he needed to sit. He mumbled some sort of yes. The lady next to me who was also part of the tension-affected crowd asked the two passengers in the seats nearest the door to vacate them. So the girl in the reserved seat who was about to perhaps feign sleepy innocence had to leave her comfortable abode for the disabled man. Happy ending. Relief for the transported masses.

There you go. I could add making out in the corner and talking loudly, on the phone or otherwise, and letting children go mad in a crowded space to the list but that'll take another weekend. Damn I've become lazy.