Disclaimer: If you have never experienced public transport even once in your life, as early as now, please close this window and continue reading your Vogue Italia.
But if you are one of us mere mortals who brave an angry mob of people (deodorant, optional) in the MRT, or wait in long queues in jeepney terminals, or run after raging buses in EDSA, all under the heat of the scorching sun (or under the pressure of running late), then read on. These are the five breeds of commuters who, by all means, you should avoid. If you can’t avoid them, rest assured that Karma always gets its way.
The Athlete – He strategically positions himself directly at the front door of the MRT car. Then, Mr. Alpha Male secures his fortress by boxing out anyone who gets in the way, women and grandparents included. He cuts the line and whistles nonchalantly as if nothing happened and as if he was right there in front to begin with.
If all commuters were Survivor castaways, this person will most probably emerge as the winner as he always makes it a point to outwit and outplay anyone. His philosophy is that life is a competition –
“But we’re not in a competition, Sally.” (First to guess which movie this line was taken from gets a star! Fo’ shizzle.)
His competitive spirit mirrors that of an athlete – only, the kind who gets steroids for breakfast.
The DJ – Meet the DJ (aka Douche Jock). He likes to bring the house down with his contagious tunes from The Biebs and The Jo Bros. He bops his head to every beat, and sings his heart out as you cringe to lyrics such as “My money is yours, give you a little more because I luv ya”. (Luv ya too Biebs BB.)
Hey, look. We actually don’t care whoever “artist” you listen to, but please keep it to yourself. Y U NO EARPHONES? We understand that you’re bored, but why don’t you try counting every billboard you see, or playing Exhaust in your mind? You can talk about all the self-expression crap you want, but let me remind you of something called basic manners and common decency. A rush-hour bus going full throttle along EDSA may look and feel like a jampacked bar, but we refuse to be your captive party animals.
The Foodie – He is never satisfied with just a sandwich and a bottled drink. It is imperative that he eats the messiest and most inconvenient food you can imagine -- quail eggs, rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum), peanuts and balut. And it is very crucial that he eats these in public places. In really cramped public spaces. No, he cannot wait until he’s home. He must eat them. Here. Now.
Worse, he throws his trash indiscriminately on the floor. Hey you, you do not own the bus, and the bus conductor is sure as hell not your maid. So suit up and pick up your junk.
The Space Hugger – He sits as if the purchasing power of his peso is twice that of a normal Filipino. He’s not fat but he occupies twice the space as any passenger can possibly occupy. While he’s sitting there on his imaginary Lazyboy, one poor passenger is holding on to dear life at the other end of the jeepney. And he’s completely unaware of this because in his carefully constructed universe, he is alone in his spacious limousine.
The Snob – He’s the snotty looking Royal Highness who refuses to touch your money and give it to the driver. His auditory nerves block off the words “bayad po”, and he will pretend to do anything not to notice you, even spacing out to nothingness.
Actually guys, he is a Moroccan prince who escaped his country to avoid the press. No, he’s a rich business tycoon on an immersion to experience a day in the shoes of a normal person. We’ll never know, right? But until these far-fetched ideas are proven to be true, go pick up the change and give it to the passenger beside you. Or take a cab. Or buy your own car. Or teleport.
Public transport is no walk in the park. You encounter these people (and so much more) and you try your best to muster all the self-control that you can to avoid inflicting physical injury upon them. But until we score our very own Hummers, I guess we have no choice but to deal with these 5 commuters from hell.
Hang in there, you guise!
--M
What other types of commuters deserve a spot in the fiery pits next to Pol Pot and Hitler?
“But we’re not in a competition, Sally.” (First to guess which movie this line was taken from gets a star! Fo’ shizzle.)
His competitive spirit mirrors that of an athlete – only, the kind who gets steroids for breakfast.
The DJ – Meet the DJ (aka Douche Jock). He likes to bring the house down with his contagious tunes from The Biebs and The Jo Bros. He bops his head to every beat, and sings his heart out as you cringe to lyrics such as “My money is yours, give you a little more because I luv ya”. (Luv ya too Biebs BB.)
Hey, look. We actually don’t care whoever “artist” you listen to, but please keep it to yourself. Y U NO EARPHONES? We understand that you’re bored, but why don’t you try counting every billboard you see, or playing Exhaust in your mind? You can talk about all the self-expression crap you want, but let me remind you of something called basic manners and common decency. A rush-hour bus going full throttle along EDSA may look and feel like a jampacked bar, but we refuse to be your captive party animals.
The Foodie – He is never satisfied with just a sandwich and a bottled drink. It is imperative that he eats the messiest and most inconvenient food you can imagine -- quail eggs, rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum), peanuts and balut. And it is very crucial that he eats these in public places. In really cramped public spaces. No, he cannot wait until he’s home. He must eat them. Here. Now.
Worse, he throws his trash indiscriminately on the floor. Hey you, you do not own the bus, and the bus conductor is sure as hell not your maid. So suit up and pick up your junk.
The Space Hugger – He sits as if the purchasing power of his peso is twice that of a normal Filipino. He’s not fat but he occupies twice the space as any passenger can possibly occupy. While he’s sitting there on his imaginary Lazyboy, one poor passenger is holding on to dear life at the other end of the jeepney. And he’s completely unaware of this because in his carefully constructed universe, he is alone in his spacious limousine.
The Snob – He’s the snotty looking Royal Highness who refuses to touch your money and give it to the driver. His auditory nerves block off the words “bayad po”, and he will pretend to do anything not to notice you, even spacing out to nothingness.
Actually guys, he is a Moroccan prince who escaped his country to avoid the press. No, he’s a rich business tycoon on an immersion to experience a day in the shoes of a normal person. We’ll never know, right? But until these far-fetched ideas are proven to be true, go pick up the change and give it to the passenger beside you. Or take a cab. Or buy your own car. Or teleport.
Public transport is no walk in the park. You encounter these people (and so much more) and you try your best to muster all the self-control that you can to avoid inflicting physical injury upon them. But until we score our very own Hummers, I guess we have no choice but to deal with these 5 commuters from hell.
Hang in there, you guise!
--M
What other types of commuters deserve a spot in the fiery pits next to Pol Pot and Hitler?
