So yesterday was my first day at work, right? Of course I wanted to go to work early because I don’t want people to think I was a stubborn lazy ass who goes to work only when he feels like it. But I digress.
So I get to the commute part of my soon-to-be daily routine. I go take a jeepney, which takes ten minutes, but it’s normal. Hey, it’s a Monday. I’ve been commuting for years and I always get to elbow pregnant women and frail old ladies for a fair shot at squeezing myself into whatever free space is there in the jeepney.
Sometimes I just run alongside it
So after that jeepney ride, I go now to the MRT, which will magically transport me to a magical place called Ortigas where there is work to be done and money to be earned. I have always experienced horrible crowds there and I even had my bird groped once by some fag so I was prepared for another horrific experience and-
MRT GMA-Kamuning Station at 8am
Wow.
So I gingerly gather up my courage and approach the crowd. They were there for probably twenty minutes already and I’m guessing they were rather pissed off already, and would give violent glances to any newcomer who would try to squeeze themselves in. Trying hard – very, very hard – to not make eye contact, I silently navigate to the middle of the crowd, narrowly avoiding elbows, fists, roundhouse kicks, and the occasional switchblade.
Then the train arrives.
TRAAAAIIIINNNNN!
There’s something about being pushed around without any control at all where you’re going and screaming “HOLY FUCK THAT WOMAN IS GETTING TRAMPLED SOMEBODY HELP HER” that’s weirdly exhilarating. After doing my share of elbowing and trampling and punching, I get in. Yeah, I made it. I’d love to do a victory dance, but my crotch is stuck in somebody else’s buttcrack and as much as I wanna disengage, the the fact that we’re squeezed like sardines in the car won’t let me.
All in all, it wasn’t so bad. I guess the universe decided to wuss out on the crap it’s been dishing me. After I get off (get it? Get off? HULOLZIHERKHEHEHEHERK- shut up.) at Ortigas station, I immediately grab my cellphone to check the time and see how many minutes I have left before I get marked as late.
And much to my surprise, my phone was gone.
And my feelings can be thus summed up as:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DAMN YOU MRT! DAMN YOU AND YOUR STUPID SNATCHERS! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!
So, um, yeah. That was it. How was your commute?
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