What do you do when you’re on the last train home, with insufficient cash to take a taxi home and feeling the tide rising i.e. desperate to pee?
I’d to work overtime yesterday just to earn enough money to bring some eggs home. This is not an easy goal since eggs these days are worth more than a return air ticket to Phuket. I was actually having my rare streak of entrepreneurial spirit when I’d the intention to buy the eggs. I was hoping to exchange those eggs for the air tickets and then re-selling the air tickets to the highest dim-witted and cheapskate bidders on eBay. This will definitely make a good task for the contestants on The Apprentice: how much they can earn from a tray of eggs. At least the losing team gets to throw the leftover eggs at the winning team.
Being hardworking can have its drawbacks. Last night was the risk of missing the ride home. I’d got two choices then. Either I take the northbound train and transfer to the last feeder bus or I take the southbound train, risked missing the last westbound train and end up having to take a taxi from the city. I’d never feel more like a jackrabbit being caught between gun barrels on both sides. But being so much smarter than the jackrabbit, I made an astute decision and avoided being shot. Then, the question at the start of this entry surfaced.
Facing such situation, there are only three scenarios I can think of.
Scenario 1: I’ll have to alight and ‘release the pressure’ at one of the stations. After which, being broke, I’ve to rely on my overflowing charm to get a ride back. This is a good plan. Unfortunately, if used, it’ll cause a traffic jam and incidences of road rage from drivers, particularly pretty female ones, vying to offer me a ride home. Not that I mind watching a few cat fights for entertainment of course.
Scenario 2: I’ll hold it out on the train, crossing my legs close together and hoping the dam won’t crack under pressure and collapse. This is not too bad a plan, given that I’ve high tolerance. However, it’ll mean my fellow commuters may suddenly find me still on the floor, having died from bladder explosion. My name will forever be written in the book of ‘Funniest Ways You Can Die’ and I’ll live on as the Bladder Ghost on the northbound train in Singapore True Ghost Stories. My tombstone will probably have the wordings ‘Rest in Piss’.
Scenario 3: I’ll just ‘let go’, hoping that my fellow commuters who mostly are dozing already won’t notice. If they do, I’ll just blame the dripping condensation from the air conditioner. This is not a bad idea as well. I’m ‘relieved’ and don’t get blame for it. Nevertheless, I’m counting on the fact that my fellow commuters have the brain size of a pea. This is not a reliable assumption since it’s known for a fact that the brain size of an average Singaporean is like a marble. Any brain size bigger than a pea is a call for trouble.
So which of these choices did I chose? Luckily, this is nothing more than a hypothetical question, which didn’t occur, nor I wish for it to happen in the future. I arrived safely at my stop without feeling a desperate need for release. Nonetheless, I almost peed in my jeans on the walk home. It was eerily quiet last night, on top of being misty and all. I couldn’t discern if the few I saw were human or good brothers (i.e. ghosts) out for a glide. I could feel the hair rising on my nape and hands throughout the walk and at one time, I even felt like I’d step on someone’s toes.
Maybe I’m just a timid guy. After all earlier in the night when a flying cockroach landed on me at a coffee shop, my scream would have put all world-renowned sopranos to shame. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t get an offer to join an opera on the spot. That’ll definitely save me efforts to get a job.
I said in jest of course. I didn’t scream but I did hear some when I sent Mr (or is it Ms?) Flying Cockroach over to the next table. It created mayhem with chairs overturning, drinks spilling, hands flailing and mouths in the classic ‘Ahhh’ shape. I believe Mr Flying Cockroach even went for a little dip in one of the beer glasses before flying rather drowsily away. Now, those girls at the other table, they definitely could have qualify for an opera. Just imagine all these in slow motion. Definitely a Kodak moment.