A few observations

Tempting Fate

is, apparently, a startlingly viable and hazardous pastime. I opened the newspaper on the train last Friday and chanced upon an article detailing the many delays of public transport due to numerous passenger ailments. Another one told tales of violent and aggressive passengers being manhandled by even more trigger-nerved tram drivers and the like.

“Pah!” I said loudly, causing another passenger to edge away warily. Excuses! I thought, and then the fateful sentence slipped, like wet unnoticed glass, through my mind:

“If I haven’t seen it, it can’t be that common lah.”

*cue thunder and ominous-sounding noises, like a non-verbal “Mum and Dad want to see you. Now.”*

At the station on arrival, I noticed, absently, a nondescript youth surrounded by black-coated Figures Of Authority, raised voices and hackles obvious even across two sets of train tracks.

On the way home, in the tram, a girl fainted due to an asthma attack, and a row of halted trams quickly formed behind our necessarily stationary one, awaiting the arrival of an ambulance.

On Sunday, Boyfriend, his friends, and I watched with a keen and slightly horrified interest as our tram driver stopped the tram, marched up to a passenger and dragged him off said vehicle. They proceeded to have a lengthy and abusive argument, degenerating into a dreadfully one-sided bout of fisticuffs (our driver was built like a footy player, and the passenger like a third of one), ending only when the Driver (as he shall henceforth be known) flung a small, indeterminate object, presumably the Passenger’s (ditto), as far away as he could into a road of oncoming traffic.

What was just slightly worrying was that on returning, he turned to another passenger and said, “That was him, yeah?”. The answer was, if the word can be used, fortunately in the affirmative, but it does seem, to me at least, that perhaps this is the sort of question that should be asked before undertaking such action.

Anyway. At the onset of the last incident, I rolled my eyes heavenward and said “FINE! I BELIEVE YOU!”, and fervently hope that the message has gotten through.

The next and only time I exclaim about something in the newspaper, it will be about a lottery winner, and will be something along the lines of “Pah! This never happens to *emphasis* ME…”

Teenage dramas

Countless episodes of The O.C. and One Tree Hill, both dearly beloveds of the dearly beloved Boyfriend, have led me to the conclusion that to the makers of these shows, the absolute height, nay, the pinnacle of character development rests in the gradual evolution of vile villains and bitchy airheads into simply misunderstood good people with previously undiscovered hearts of gold. Sworn enemies become united by a common goal, and the revelation of insecurities and secret traumas (childhood or otherwise) become the ultimate in “surprising twists”, resulting in “unlikely bonds” of love and friendship.

The only truly bad people who stay bad despite all reasonableness usually turn out to be psychotic and are therefore not really, you know, normal.

There is one in every class

Like, really. The obnoxious one who asks tons of questions, most of which are irrelevant and the rest about matters that were covered just two seconds before.

I went for MYOB (an accounting-type software) training today and was heartily amused (my colleague was heartily annoyed, so I felt the need to right the karmic balance) by a girl in the front row who came in late, proceeded to ask the trainer about other training programs available (before, mind you, he could even begin with this one), and interjected almost every lesson chapter with the following statement: “Yeah, I’ve done that, I taught myself how”.

She is not the first. For some reason, in 90% of the classes I have been in, there is always the one person who manages to annoy everyone else with irrelevant questions and painfully inane comments.

I would go on, except for the remaining 10% of classes in which I found no one annoying at all, and the niggling thought repeating itself in the back of my head – “There is always one…”

[I do realize that high school classmates occasionally read this, so stop rolling your eyes, you.]

A conversation

While watching television one day:

Boyfriend: You’re tiny.

Me: No I’m not.

Boyfriend: Yes you are! I can fit your fist in mine. Look!

Me: (struggling unsuccessfully to open hand) STOPPIT!! I AM NOT TINY!

Boyfriend: *laughs patronizingly*

Me: I AM NOT ALL TINY!!! I HAVE BIGGER BRAINS!!

Boyfriend: *continues laughing and pats head condescendingly*

Me: WELL I HAVE BOOBS!! Oh hang on. *looks thoughtful* So do you.

Boyfriend: *stops abruptly*

Me: *laughs maniacally and falls off sofa*