Commuting and Dead Fungi

A friend of mine from college romanticized commuting as the freedom to watch people without stigma. You get to observe people. You get to learn new things. She reasoned that under normal circumstances, you couldn’t really watch people conduct their business without drawing attention to yourself, whereas while commuting, you are free to watch people standing inside trains, sitting inside jeeps, sticking boogers onto bus seats, etc.

Now, if you don’t think you can learn a lot from watching people sticking various forms of sputus onto various parts of vehicles, you’re probably not alone. Also, it’s probably considered serial killer behavior.

But there are things about commuting worth observing, worth asking about. For some of them, we might even have answers.

Q: Why do MRT users about to ride the train feel so passionately about never letting anyone off the train?

A: Frontal Lobe Dysfunction, a neurological condition. For the same reason, whales slam onto beaches, forgetting they need water to swim. Or, simpler explanation, dead fungi for brains.

Q: Why do barkers substitute “maluwag pa” for “couldn’t fit another person inside with a crowbar?”

A: Visual Agnosia, a neurological condition. For the same reason, a music teacher mistook his wife’s head for a hat. Or, simpler explanation, dead fungi for brains.

Q: Why does the Ayala MRT station sport talking escalators?

A: Verbal Apraxia, a neurological condition. For the same reason, Eddie Gil can’t finish coherent sentences, or sentences in general. Or, simpler explanation, dead fungi for brains.

Q: Why does commuting involve so many neurological conditions, or dead fungi for brains?

Now, see, that isn’t exactly an easy question to answer.

One theory - let’s call it the Dead Fungi Theory (DFT) - is that there’s a passive ‘Dead-Fungi-gene’ (DF gene) that is triggered when perfectly rational, otherwise solid thinkers go commuting.

Some high school kid sits at the back of the bus, thinking about trigonometry, and then - BAM, Dead Fungi seizure - writes “hot singol lukin 4 sexy txtm8– txt 09181234567.”

A neat-ish guy at the side of a jeep who looks like he’s been combing his hair for the past 245 years thinks about lunch then - BAM, Dead Fungi seizure - spits gum onto incoming traffic.

A middle aged woman who evidently took a power dressing courses to heart stands by an MRT door thinking about what she ought to wear the next day then - BAM, Dead Fungi seizure - she drags passengers heading out back inside the trains, possibly fatally.

The DFT symptoms are everywhere, and it’s only getting worse.

So that’s it, I’m off to the MRT. Maybe I oughta go get some gum.