Musings From an Accidentaly Bastard in Yuppieland

My forays into Yuppieland are never good. I like to believe that there's a place on this little blue ball that's increasingly becoming bluer thanks to bastards like China, India, and the U.S. of A., for everyone. And one of those place is for yuppies or people I like to know as God's chosen few, and another place for everyone else which I like to know as people-just-like-me.

It never feels good getting sent into the heart of Yuppieland. It kind of feels like James Bond being sent to infiltrate some really evil organization that we never understood why except that I'm not as cool/suave/sexy James Bond. I like to think I'm more than he but lets not fool ourselves. In short, I feel really, really, really out of place venturing into Yuppieland. Imagine yourself in a sea of shirts and ties and you're the only one decked out in a polo shirt, faded blue jeans, and sports shoes plus a bag that looks like something your mother gave you for Christmas 10 Christmases ago.

It's easy to feel special in that setting with the word special holding every negative connotation possible.

So today's foray into Yuppieland found me doing what a do best: being a complete bastard or in the loving words of my ex girlfriend, a dickhead. Decked out in my trademark worn out black shirt, faded blue jeans, and shoes that have seen better day, I headed off to the nearest train station to my abode. No, strike that. Hovel. Already my walk to the train station was one filled with sights of yuppies. At one traffic light, a middle-aged-well-dressed yuppie looked me over with an incredulous expression on her face. I'm not sure if she was more surprised at seeing my kind awake so early in the morning or more amazed at the size of the bags (yes, you read it right. It's a plural) I was carrying.

For record's sake, I was carrying three laptops this morning. My bag was wider than me many times over thanks to all the cables and laptops I had in them.

Back to the story, I tried to give her my best morning face smile as possible. Of course if you've ever met me personally, you know that no matter what expression I do, my face is perpetually stuck on the 'I HATE YOU! DIE YOU STUPID [removed]!' look. I don't quite think she was amused. But forget that and flashback forward 10 minutes in time and I'm standing at the train platform waiting for my train.

Now, the biggest problem about waking up together with the rest of the yuppies in this island is that you're bound to be taking the train at the same time as all those aforementioned yuppies. And the problem with taking the train at the same time as all those yuppies is that well... Things get more intimate than one would really like. Ok, I'm a guy so maybe it's not as bad for me as it is for the thousands of females who are reliant on trains to get to work except that whenever I take a train down to Yuppieland, I will inevitably find myself pressed up against really huge rancid smelling men.

The next problem is, well, I was carrying three laptops. Which means it's really hard for me to get on the train to begin with. And such was the case. I had to wait two trains before I could board any. And when I did manage to get on a train, I didn't make any friends. Having to have to somehow squeeze myself in between two yuppies, I accidentally swung my bag hard into the shin of a female yuppie. I think she winced in pain. She definitely didn't look to happy. I wanted to say sorry but my mouth was so dry that I was sure my breathe would've stunk to the high heavens that I was sure that saying sorry would only make matter worse.

Instead, I just put on my best sheepish look. Of course whatever look I put on always looks like a 'I HATE YOU! DIE YOU STUPID [removed]!' look. Two stops later and a few yuppies got off the train and there was a little bit more elbow room on the train, for thirty seconds at least. Between those thirty seconds, a mid-twenties yuppie who was standing a few persons away from me decided to stand somewhere else. I didn't understand why but she decided to stand somewhere near where I was standing which also happened to be the most crowded spot on the train. When she got to where I was, she looked at me and for some reason or another crossed an arm across her chest in a guarding position.

I looked her in the face, then her chest, and then her face again utterly confused as she just stood there and looked at me. I tried recalling when was the last time I ventured into Yuppieland and if I ever did, did I accidentally molest anybody but failed to recall any incident. I tried to give her my best "I'm not like that" face but you get the idea how that turned out.

Of course all that was momentary distractions as a sudden flood of people snapped us both out of our accusatory stupor and back into the reality of where we were. I try really hard not to come into any body contact with anyone when on public transportation because it's just really not nice to. At least I don't feel particularly good about it. But sometimes, it is inevitable that one would find his or herself pressed up against somebody else.

Especially when that someone else presses up against you first. And so I found myself in an awkward position of being pushed up against the guy standing behind of me and being pushed against by two young female yuppies standing in front of me which in turn were being pushed up against by other female yuppies (repeat until yuppie line reaches the train door). Because of the awkward direction I was facing, like it or not, people don't stand in trains in straight lines, the right portion of my body that the young yuppie lady to my right was pressing up against was my arm. And because we were roughly the same height, part of my arm found itself being enveloped by the fleshy mounds of her derriere.

I could've blissfully pleaded ignorance and left my arm there to lavish in its fortunate position since young yuppie lady to my right was blissfully unawares as to what she was pushing up against but because I am a nice guy with a somewhat sound ethically conscious mind, I decided very, very quickly that my arm should be removed immediately. And so I lifted my arm out of there. In the process, my action caused young yuppie lady to realize that there was an arm there and to that, she turned and looked at me with a nasty look.

I wanted to try to give her my best "I'm innocent" look but I didn't bother. We both know where that would've gone. Instead, I just sighed and resigned to the fact that I was a fish out of water there and just tried to endure the rest of the ride.

And that was my adventure or misadventure into Yuppieland today. And to that, I bid you all adieu while I go cut off my arm.