Happy on the train

Today on the train I saw somebody who was happy, which is a rarity on the MTR and unheard of in the morning rush hour. She was crammed into the corner by the doors and talking on her phone to somebody else.

This also marked her out as an aberration, because nobody ever uses their phone to talk to anyone when they're on the MTR (unless their phone isn't really a phone, but is some kind of tablet). So I guess she must be a recent arrival to Hong Kong or a holidaymaker, ignorant of the particular manners in this country that demand everyone is grumpy on public transport.

Fortunately, there wasn't another face in the carriage that didn't look like a slapped arse/a bulldog licking piss off a thistle/your own favourite simile, so I didn't get confused and think I'd boarded a train for another country by mistake.

Like Taiwan, perhaps.

On the train this evening, there is a strong smell of farts. So this, perhaps, is my day: gloomy people in the morning, flatulent people in the evening, and air conditioning in between. There was probably some salad in there too, but that isn't something to mention here.