good day to you
ive had many weird encounters in my life. weird in the sense that they don't occur to normal people. they don't actually happen to normal people living in safe serene Singapore. they just don't. all my encounters just happen to be on public transportation. these encounters are enough to put anyone off public transportation for life my dears.
1) ever had a foreign construction worker chat you up on the train? it seems my face just spells "innocent and naive" indian teenage girl who wears her hair in two pigtails to school and walks around smelling like i just emptied half of saudi arabia's oil supply on my head. it all begins with what's the time?, are you indian?, where are you going?, where do you live? let me just tell you that it isn't normal if he crosses a carriage to ask these questions. it isn't normal if he crosses another half to continue the conversation. scary no? almost released bodily fluid down my pants (by that i meant pee, hur hur hur i know exactly what you're thinking in that assholian minds of yours fuckers). indian construction workers and i are hardly best mates, despite belonging to the same colour swatch.
2)train stalking seems to be a recurring theme with foreigners. in our next take, our young heroine(me) gets rubbed up against. our lead, aged 14, takes the stage on the early morning train to school. it was the crack of dawn and the train carriage is empty except for a RV sec one boy (you can tell by the knee high socks) and a ns uniformed young male. don't let the uniform fool you for they're all actually cowards and will do nothing to help. if the country was in trouble and you need their help to fight, you'd have to find them first. instead they stare and bemuse over the possible permutations of our eminent relationship. so with is unusually rotund beer belly up against my arm and the front of his cap gently grazing my cheek (a rough gauge of his pee wee herman height can be derived from here) on a nearly empty train, whatever is our protagonist to do? the polite but firm pleas and "excuse me"s seem to have no effect. oh what joy. who wouldn't want an obese tan man(nationality questionable) rub up against(or rather corner) them. what's a young defenseless girl to do in such a situation? run of course. run your butt off. run like the wind and your arse is on fire. at the very next stop, i got out and entered a different carriage of the same train. no reason to be late just because of a certain wacko. but that doesn't always work. here's why: certain stalkers may want to employ you as their whore and pimp you out in thailand so much that they might actually follow you out of the train. creepy. as i look out the train doors, panting and willing the heavens not to be stuck with such a wanker ever again, i spot the stalker looking around for me on the platform. he sees me and tries to re-enter the train only to have the train door slam shut in his face. wahahahahaha you should have seen his face. should i have felt smug about my quick thinking or cower in fear pondering a possible future in pleasing dirty old men at a low class brothel located conveniently in the back alleys of indonesia somewhere? i, my dears, chose the former.
3)in our next escapade, we visit our protagonist at an MRT station safely surrounded by company. what putrid gruesome (but newsworthy) scum might attack her next? i shall put you out of your misery. a gaggle of ITE (dover) scoundrels of course. no prizes for guessing their nationality. that's right: indian. as i here my name being hollered out in the middle of the train station, i look around to see that 'twas a group of scrawny shit coloured people who had let my name be encased by the nicotine deposits lodged between their teeth for the briefest moment. i squint and peer through my glasses, wondering if i knew these scalawags from a wedding or family gathering. alas, i hadn't. this was but another bout of my unfortunate encounters. i unpinned my name tag from my breast pocket and pocketed it as i continued chatting with my friends. never had i imagined that uncultured and uncouth people will still roam the earth after our multiple stages of hard earned and well deserved evolution. they put my race to even more shame that we already subject ourselves to.
well, on the unlikely event that you find yourself being stalked or harassed in any way, here are a few quick and easy steps to rid yourself of any possibility of lying in a ditch somewhere. oh i too have naively thought that the streets of singapore were safe and such encounters were unlikely. alas, it isn't and i have 3 very real life encounters to prove it. so read on and try to travel in packs, for survival can only be ensured as such.
-first there's the good 'ol ignore tactic
-if that doesn't work (it wouldn't with anyone serious about harassing you), get up from where you are and/or move as far away as possible. in such a scenario i hardly think its necessary to act casual. make haste.
-if he* follows you, get out of the train and get onto the next one.
-if he follows you still, lodge yourself in the middle of a crowd.
-if he hovers, ask for help.
-if no one helps you because they think, for some reason, that you're in some way related to the shmuck, i think its time for some self defense. kick him in the groin. that's right. make the driving force for his insane stalking inept (forever if possible). that's got to get him off.
let us unite against foreign construction workers and bird brained scums shall we? unfortunately i still have to take public transportation. my best bet now would be to hide some shurikens in my shoe for my next escapade. stay tuned for "the new adventures of captain magnet (for foreign workers)".
*note: all my stalkers (and i gather that most stalkers are) male. the assumption that yours will probably be male as well has been made. the assumption that it is an absolute genetic defect that comes only with the y-chromosome has also been made.
ive had many weird encounters in my life. weird in the sense that they don't occur to normal people. they don't actually happen to normal people living in safe serene Singapore. they just don't. all my encounters just happen to be on public transportation. these encounters are enough to put anyone off public transportation for life my dears.
1) ever had a foreign construction worker chat you up on the train? it seems my face just spells "innocent and naive" indian teenage girl who wears her hair in two pigtails to school and walks around smelling like i just emptied half of saudi arabia's oil supply on my head. it all begins with what's the time?, are you indian?, where are you going?, where do you live? let me just tell you that it isn't normal if he crosses a carriage to ask these questions. it isn't normal if he crosses another half to continue the conversation. scary no? almost released bodily fluid down my pants (by that i meant pee, hur hur hur i know exactly what you're thinking in that assholian minds of yours fuckers). indian construction workers and i are hardly best mates, despite belonging to the same colour swatch.
2)train stalking seems to be a recurring theme with foreigners. in our next take, our young heroine(me) gets rubbed up against. our lead, aged 14, takes the stage on the early morning train to school. it was the crack of dawn and the train carriage is empty except for a RV sec one boy (you can tell by the knee high socks) and a ns uniformed young male. don't let the uniform fool you for they're all actually cowards and will do nothing to help. if the country was in trouble and you need their help to fight, you'd have to find them first. instead they stare and bemuse over the possible permutations of our eminent relationship. so with is unusually rotund beer belly up against my arm and the front of his cap gently grazing my cheek (a rough gauge of his pee wee herman height can be derived from here) on a nearly empty train, whatever is our protagonist to do? the polite but firm pleas and "excuse me"s seem to have no effect. oh what joy. who wouldn't want an obese tan man(nationality questionable) rub up against(or rather corner) them. what's a young defenseless girl to do in such a situation? run of course. run your butt off. run like the wind and your arse is on fire. at the very next stop, i got out and entered a different carriage of the same train. no reason to be late just because of a certain wacko. but that doesn't always work. here's why: certain stalkers may want to employ you as their whore and pimp you out in thailand so much that they might actually follow you out of the train. creepy. as i look out the train doors, panting and willing the heavens not to be stuck with such a wanker ever again, i spot the stalker looking around for me on the platform. he sees me and tries to re-enter the train only to have the train door slam shut in his face. wahahahahaha you should have seen his face. should i have felt smug about my quick thinking or cower in fear pondering a possible future in pleasing dirty old men at a low class brothel located conveniently in the back alleys of indonesia somewhere? i, my dears, chose the former.
3)in our next escapade, we visit our protagonist at an MRT station safely surrounded by company. what putrid gruesome (but newsworthy) scum might attack her next? i shall put you out of your misery. a gaggle of ITE (dover) scoundrels of course. no prizes for guessing their nationality. that's right: indian. as i here my name being hollered out in the middle of the train station, i look around to see that 'twas a group of scrawny shit coloured people who had let my name be encased by the nicotine deposits lodged between their teeth for the briefest moment. i squint and peer through my glasses, wondering if i knew these scalawags from a wedding or family gathering. alas, i hadn't. this was but another bout of my unfortunate encounters. i unpinned my name tag from my breast pocket and pocketed it as i continued chatting with my friends. never had i imagined that uncultured and uncouth people will still roam the earth after our multiple stages of hard earned and well deserved evolution. they put my race to even more shame that we already subject ourselves to.
well, on the unlikely event that you find yourself being stalked or harassed in any way, here are a few quick and easy steps to rid yourself of any possibility of lying in a ditch somewhere. oh i too have naively thought that the streets of singapore were safe and such encounters were unlikely. alas, it isn't and i have 3 very real life encounters to prove it. so read on and try to travel in packs, for survival can only be ensured as such.
-first there's the good 'ol ignore tactic
-if that doesn't work (it wouldn't with anyone serious about harassing you), get up from where you are and/or move as far away as possible. in such a scenario i hardly think its necessary to act casual. make haste.
-if he* follows you, get out of the train and get onto the next one.
-if he follows you still, lodge yourself in the middle of a crowd.
-if he hovers, ask for help.
-if no one helps you because they think, for some reason, that you're in some way related to the shmuck, i think its time for some self defense. kick him in the groin. that's right. make the driving force for his insane stalking inept (forever if possible). that's got to get him off.
let us unite against foreign construction workers and bird brained scums shall we? unfortunately i still have to take public transportation. my best bet now would be to hide some shurikens in my shoe for my next escapade. stay tuned for "the new adventures of captain magnet (for foreign workers)".
*note: all my stalkers (and i gather that most stalkers are) male. the assumption that yours will probably be male as well has been made. the assumption that it is an absolute genetic defect that comes only with the y-chromosome has also been made.
