Since it was a Saturday, I didn't think the MRT was uber crowded, so that's what I took going home.
Boy, was I wrong. It was packed to the rafters. But since I was in front of the line, I was able to ride the first train that arrived. With my backpack and plastic bag from The Landmark in my hand, I found myself inside the crowded train.
By the time packed train arrived in Guadalupe, there was a sea of people rushing in and pressing against everyone else. Because of that volume of people, my body was being pushed and contorted too much that it felt like they were turning me into a pretzel. My arm was outstretched and extended to my side, while my body was twisted the other way.
When the train reached Ortigas, the door opened and people started rushing out. This was the only time I was able to get my body in the normal position. That's when the strangest thing happened. When my arm was able to reach the proper position, I checked my hand carrying the plastic bag from The Landmark and this is what I saw:
(Ta-daaahhhh!)
Yes, the force and impact of the people in the trained ripped the plastic bag in my hand and it was nowhere to be found. Actually, when most of the people got off at Cubao station, I even stayed behind to check whether the plastic bag was stepped on or thrown off somewhere. But alas, the bag was gone. Along with my 3 v-neck white shirts.
(This is all that's left of my white shirts.)
Harrumph!
Honestly, (and maybe even naively), I thought that this was a freak accident. As freaky as my Freaky Friday last May. But while I was talking to Mark tonight, he told me that it was possible that someone stole the bag and its contents. And on hindsight, it is possible. I mean, the MRT has been witness to a lot of petty crimes, and this one definitely qualifies as one.
Strange, but true.
So, if ever it was stolen by another person, my only hope at this point is that he's a size medium, that he likes white V-neck shirts, and that he needs those shirts more than I do.
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