It is official.

Bus number 39 has become the worst mosh pit you can ever get yourself in.

Forget about Baybeats 2006 or Youth Gone Wild 2006 or even Smash'd 2006. Bus number 39 is one of the mosh pit I'ver ever seen. If you take the bus from my stop at Tampines, it's not too bad. It'll be like the first few performances of a gig where the bands are literally unknown. You have the friends of the performers clapping formally instead of the usual wolf whistles or cheering you get when you go to gigs. Then once the bus enters Pasir Ris, that's when you have the hot vocalists and their equally hot guitarists and drummers strolling on stage and all of a sudden, the whole world appears in front of the stage. You have girls screaming cause their beautiful hair is being ruined by the hands of Apeks and Nyonyas who are frantically trying to tap their Ez-Link cards on to the card reader cause they don't want to be scolded by your friendly bus driver. It's like the equivelent of crazy Minahs trying to grab the legs of their oh-so-hot fantasy boyfriend who's playing the guitar or singing an emo song with long hair that covers their face.

Then there are fashionistas who want to board the bus but are scared to. They wear beautiful dresses and stilletoes or perhaps pumps and put on an inch thick of foudation without any blusher or eyeshadow and end up looking like a really rich corpse. They flag the bus with their hands waving up and down but when the bus stops, they get frightened cause they know that their outfits and face will be ruined. What do they do instead? Give a very paiseh look to the bus driver, say something in Mandarin like 'never mind' and then disappear from the bus stop. A few metres away from the bus stop later, you'd see a very familliar face in that blue taxi. This kind of people can be related very similarly to a group of people I call poseurs. They come to gigs dressed to kill, sometimes wearing studded jackets and emo band shirts, holding hands with their girlfriends and just standing in the mosh pit. Yes my friends, just standing in a mosh pit. They don't push people nor do they scream when a good band comes along. They are just there for show. But the worst part is when people start to push their girlfriends, they get really angry.

Dude, which part of this-is-a-mosh-pit don't you get? No one escapes the mosh uninjured. So what do they do? They just get out of the mosh and start to find fault as though they own the concert or something.

So when it's time for me to get down from bus number 39, I have to squeeze my through the mosh pit just like the other Meridians who are doing so as well. I step on bare feet and shoes and sometimes pulling hair as well. I have Mats screaming 'Damned you people!' at me and Minahs making very orgasmistic sounds just because people have to touch them (its not as though we want to touch you). You can really see from the Number 39 Mosh Pit that chilvary is really dead. Guys push girls and girls also push guys. No wait, make that girl without the 's'. It's just me pushing guys.

My daily morning routine has got me thinking. Perhaps I should organize a gig titled 'The Number 39' and all the passengers who take the same bus as me are invited.

Now that would certainly make the world a better place.