My Person
I guard my person (all my body parts i.e. bare arms, breasts,
buttocks etc) very jealously when inside public transportation. Of course there
are those that simply delight in violating me. These come in the form of
elbows, (person beside you!), knees (attack from the rear!), the thighs and the
knobbly knees of the chap beside you can also do some damage. Mr. Macho
requires space for the sacs to breathe (so he spreads his legs as far as the
east is from the west and every other person can take a jump!).
People simply don’t get (comprehension is a vague reality in
their world) that invasion of my personal space cannot be tolerated. I
understand perfectly the peculiarity of sharing a bus with total strangers for
certain distances; the ritual they want to enact with me is what I take
objection to.
The soft swell of my breasts, abdomen and my backside get the
very points of the joints of fellow commuters. In this battle to keep my orbs
safe the trickiest is guarding the chest area; this often entails a tango or a
waltz of the upper arms in conjunction with a twist here and there.
God was very creative when making people and so He made them
small, big, medium and then various in-betweens. The combination of these souls
when commuting comes in varied forms. The more ample companions usually take up
more of the allotted space than the not so generous in proportion.
The most humorous of the sagas is that the little person on the
row gets shoved, squashed and vigorously sandwiched between the others. Even
when the little person has gone the whole hog in shifting, he or she still gets
moved by the greater mass that must be accommodated! In all, commuting and
moving about in public transportation is another survival skill that’s to be
perfected and honed in the great City of Excellence.
It makes for interesting
tales and incidents whilst going about the activities of seeking your daily
bread. The tales of passenger-to-passenger, passenger-to-conductor,
LASTMA-to-driver encounters are a telling for another day.
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