2.5 Sweatshop
Monday. Mid-afternoon. LRT. Once I step foot onto the threshold of the train, I knew that I was in for a long ride. The air conditioning of the train was down. The air was thick, and hard to breathe in. Suffocating in one word. The stench of wet socks, overpowering cologne, and - for some odd reason - beef.
Although, what takes the cake is the smell of sweat that varied with each person and accumulated in just one mighty whiff of my nose into a grand stench. It smelled like a combination of a person who ran a marathon, put on perfume to mask the stench, who apparently had shawarma for lunch and probably forget their deo that day. It was like being in a crowded gym and using equipment draped with sweat from the previous user. It sticks to my hands. Imagine having that stench hovering around for thirty minutes. Oh, joy.