What A Month

The first time I experienced claustrophobia was in a commercial intercity Hummer (also known as Hiace) bus, in the back row. It's barely two months ago.

It was on my way back from work, and the time was about 6:30/to 7pm (ish). It was almost dusk.

Of course I had myself to blame for ignoring a sharp premonition to rather walk a bit farther down to another bus where there was more room to relax in a much better position.  

The bus conductor was partly to be blamed too. Typical of conductors' tenacious nature, (especially when there are more than enough buses to convey the limited number of passengers available), this young man, was all up in my way, barely giving me enough space to breathe, because he wanted  to make sure I got into his bus. So, before I made to wriggle past his advances, he had already yanked my laptop bag off my shoulder as he pleadingly tried to usher me into the bus.

I was helpless.

My target position was close to the window on any of the second, first or third row in that order. Seeing that the window spot of the first and second row were already occupied, my last option was the third row. Not bad, I reasoned. 

However, before I could advance closer to the entrance, a chunky man beat me to it, so that I was left with sitting close to him. My other option was the right window, but before I could recover from my sulkiness and frustration of losing my target, someone else beat me to it. I could also opt for another bus, but because I wasn't equal to the conductor's unyielding and exhausting grit, I reluctantly got aboard, close to the man whose massive body frame blocked my view of nature and man's architecture through the window.

I was barely seated before the bus accelerated, so as to beat other competing buses to the next bus stop, I guessed.

The air in the bus reeked of stale cigarette smoke.  I suspected it originated from the neatly dressed young man directly in front of me, who acted like he was also intoxicated from his slurs of "F@&k! Goodluck should give us a language...." and a host of other disjointed-solo gibberish, followed by short laughter. His utterances was the least of my problems, so I paid him no attention. I couldn't concentrate even if I wanted to.

At that point, unconscious panic set in. I felt crammed in like I was in a sealed box. Beads of sweat broke out. I could hardly breathe. I thought I was gong to pass out. Frantically, I looked to my right, hoping for some light, fresh air or a trail through the window. I needed to break away. Obscurity and  darkness were all I saw instead. I placed my laptop bag to the floor in an attempt to create enough room around me, hurriedly fished for my mouse pad and started fanning myself vigorously. I was sure the chunky man noticed my struggles, because I noticed he reclined and slid the louver backwards in an attempt to maybe let in more air. Unfortunately, that didn't help.

I couldn't bear it anymore, and needed to urgently jump off the bus. Just as I was about to ask the driver to stop, the driver, by way of telepathy brought the bus to a halt. I desperately made to get off the bus, but had to wait for two ladies in the middle row who could only beat me because of the time I wasted having to wade through the two occupants by my right, who were also on the last row as me.

However, instead of alighting as I planned to do, I chose to sit in the more expansive second row the two ladies vacated. It meant I was finally sitting directly close to Mr Language Advocator who then assumed the close-to-the-window spot. By then, he still hadn't stopped rambling or reeking of cigarette, My consolation was that I was much closer to the door, and got more air. 

After I settled in, I heaved a sigh of relief.

The depressing, dull, trying days of this January have been stifling, I have to deal with a whole bunch of issues all at once - the HEAT, a mediocre service (that deserves blogging about) and my missing camera (it's really an expensive camera). The feeling is almost reminiscent of my bus experience - overwhelming, suffocating and distressing.

Thankfully, the month is almost about to run out.

I JUST WANT OUT....