Poo
The folks ahead of me in the queue hesitated getting on the bus. And when I finally got up the bus, I smelled their dilemma. An old lady in an old oversized tee, disheveled and seated by the exit eating a carton of takeaway noodles, had pooed either in her clothes or had it staining her clothes. The whole bus stank. Where I sat at the back of the bus the smell mingled with someone's medicated oil. A grumpy lady seated at the front was urging the driver to persuade her to leav e. An NS boy (a brash kid with a crooked neck I watched grow up in the neighbourhood) snapped at the old lady to get down the bus. She shouted back at him - "you army how to fight war like that". Caught, the driver didn't want to leave the bus terminal and radioed for help. I thought I heard him plead with her at one point that eating on the bus was not allowed. Poo, while inconvenient, was. This went on for a couple of minutes. J and I looked at each other - should we speak up and ask t...