These people are returning home from a relaxing pilgrimage (or something) in Pakistan.
Note: This is just the OUTSIDE of the train.
Can you imagine the living hell that the inside must be?
OK, I understand that people need to get places, but my personal space demands at least a smidge of elbow room. If I lived in Ye Olde Pakistane, I'm thinking that my stingent demans for breathing room would likely mean that I'd be hoofing it home as the option of choice rather than cramming myself into that seething mass of humanity.
So, Pakistan is right out. Also Japan. I've seen their subway cars.
Please don't get me wrong, It's not like I don't want to go to these places (because hey history and culture? Love you!), it's just....if I have to do in Rome like the Romans do, it'd be the death of me. To think about having white-gloved policemen SHOVING me into an already crammed-full train car gives me the shivering jibblies. To entertain the notion of becoming part of a million-legged beast like the one in the photo above engenders a case of the creepin' willies that's worse than styrofoam rubbing together.
My personal space demands are so strong that if there are more than 3 people on an elevator I'll either 1) wait for the next one or 2) walk. Crowded airplanes are also a test of my creep-o-meter, what with all the flesh-pressing and recirculated air-breathing going on.
*shudder*
I love people, just (generally) not when they're touching me.
Tell me it's not just me, and have a great day.
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