The globalized capitalist city of Singapore has never really been pruned to be of world class standards, at least not in my modest opinion.
A train wait of 4 minutes during peak hour and 7 minutes during off peak hours seem adequately tolerable. In Hong Kong, no train takes more than 3 minutes to arrive, regardless of the hours. Anyway, I thought Singaporeans are all Kiasu, so even service providers should be likewise or more Kiasu than the citizens since everything, everyone in almost everywhere are all rushing for what seems like the Great Singapore Sale everyday.
This morning, I took my leisurely stroll to the MRT station. Much to my SMRT horror, the platform was brimmed with teems of commuters, fanning themselves with flyers (or other aesthetic items that they had in their bags like a cigarette box or their afternoon’s meeting notes that seem to be disintegrating with creases and tears with every fanning motion). Nevermind that, commuters were eagerly squashing themselves well in front of that menacing and distressing yellow line, as if balloting a suicidal attempt along the SMRT line.
I stood back and waited for the train to arrive while observing the passionately Kiasu Singaporean crowd in action. After 10 minutes of waiting in vain, people started giving each other deadly stares and most were impatiently elbowing the ones beside them with every lift of their forearm to look at their wristwatches. If I had videoed their motions, I’m sure my video would’ve been the next big hit of the SMRT chicken dance wave.
After 15 minutes of waiting in vain, I started getting frenzied and piqued. When the train arrived alas, it was thriven with commuters like that of wild grass in Mongolia. Not an inch of spare space, not even for an anorexic (if there was one around, that is!) Moreover, I was boarding from Pasir Ris. SMRT, tsk.
No choice, everyone else who didn’t manage to cuddle themselves in the train carriages had to fall back in line, still well ahead of the yellow line. This time around, who cared if they fall into the tracks? So long as they had a peace of mind that they’d be the next in line to board the train was all that mattered.
After a good 20 minutes of train wait (it was indeed the longest 20 minute in my life ever), I managed to board the train, which was still awfully packed with throngs of Simei, Bedok and Tampines neighbours.
The train wait was over. Period. The journey itself, to get to Paya Lebar, was almost like we were riding a mule in a triathlon. The abrupt harsh and chancy brakes coupled with some episodes of buttery smooth lapses sent us all throwing ourselves around (and I poke a heel in a sturdy man’s leather shoe for this).
Such changeable and erratic service providers. Let’s not even mention our non-nationals who go around rampaging into bystanders or pedestrians. Yes, rampaging INTO, where people actually die from this.
Anyhow, I still haven’t found a better embargo against SMRT and a petition for such a monopoly would probably never transpire.
I have a better plan.
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