Survive this

The sun was tilting slightly to the right, playfully blurring my vision every now and then. Despite the temporary sight malfunction, i could still catch a painful glimpse of sweat-stained armpits dangling provocatively inches from my face. The odor i cant spell in words, it would be too ghastly. From my cramped spot near the glass door i could sense the impatience, smell the discomfort and feel the agony of my fellow commuters. Yet these same citizens go through the same 30-40minutes routine every single weekday knowingly. Some however managed to survive the daily ordeal. These Survivors owe thanks to their kiasu, inconsiderate and thick skin inner-self. A majority of these Survivors are the cunning Nyonya's. Even before they set foot in the train they have their faces literally pressed against the glass door of the cabin, refusing to give way to people coming out. They proceed to shove their way in, jamming their multi-coloured shopping bags into your hips to slow you down. After which they swiftly eye the nearest empty seat and throw the shopping bags onto the bright plastic seat. Victory is never sweeter as they ease their aged butt on the plastic seat and sigh dramatically. If you think im exaggerating my account of a train ride to work, i suggest you step into the train sumwhere along Orchard to Cityhall or Chinatown if you dare. Not a very pleasant surprise.