Mass Rancid Transit

Damn near fainted today.

Just finished meeting with some people to discuss the sale of their home, and well, things didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. Work sucks, but I guess I can't jolly well stop, since I need the money. Sad thing is I don't necessarily get money for working. Thats the frustration one gets after some time with no pay. I'm practically broke and soon I'll have to consider the lucrative gigolo career. Well, maybe after some intense plastic surgery, but that requires money, so I guess thats another highway to nowhere.

Decided to go home, so into the MRT train I went. Along with me, came hordes of noisy schoolgirls. And one really BIG sweaty guy. By the natural law of probabilities, he squeezes right next to me in the crowd, while I try to avoid molesting the pretty lady on the other side of me. I was wondering how the train got to smell this bad, and of course it turned out to be the big sweaty guy. It couldn't get worse. Then it happened. He raised his arm to support himself on the top rail, blessing me with a continuous whiff of a smell I can never describe.

It seemed like ages for the train to reach the next station, I just wanted to get away. By the time I got off the train to catch the next one, I had a headache that threatened to turn me bald.

Packed trains are just full of people you never knew could piss or set you off in so many new ways. Next time, I'm gonna just take a taxi. Oh wait, I can't. That means spending more money. Damn. I need a drink. Damn, money again. Oh wait, I just remembered the whiskey at home. Yeah. At least some things end on a good note.

*burp*