Standard Singapore walk to MRT, standard 33°C heat with 90% humidity. You know the vibe. Humidity higher than than ever.
I was pacing behind this bro today—absolute unit, built like a fully loaded fridge. Nothing against thick folks, okay, live and let live! But then… the wind blew.
BRO.
It was not a normal breeze. It was an immediate biological weapon deployment. The wind carried a scent so concentrated, I thought my nose was having an allergic reaction to reality. It wasn’t just normal sweat. It tasted—yes, tasted—like a mixture of sour cream dip that’s been left at East Coast Park since 1997, mixed with raw onions, and a dash of stale air that was trapped between pork belly folds for eternity before being suddenly released into the wild.
I literally froze mid-stride. I stepped right into a pocket of invisible rotten atmosphere. My life flashed before my eyes, and my soul almost departed via my left nostril.
Now, I have developed a full-blown defense protocol. The second I see a piu piu / thick person walking ahead of me in hot weather, my brain automatically calculates the wind direction like I’m playing sniper in CS:GO.
- Scenario A: Cross the road immediately. Don’t care if got zebra crossing or not, red light also must consider jaywalking.
- Scenario B: Overtake with maximum acceleration. Burst sprint like Joseph Schooling in 2016. Do not breathe through nose until 10 meters ahead.
- Scenario C: If narrow pathway (like those HDB sheltered walkways), slow down, take out phone, pretend to reply urgent WhatsApp message from “boss”, and let a 15-meter buffer zone form.
Some people check the sky for rain; I check the wind for biohazards. Cannot already lah. The tropical air in Singapore is already thick enough to chew; I don’t need additional flavoring in my oxygen, especially not “aged sour cream onion extra ferment”.
Tell me I’m not the only one doing emergency tactical re-routing on the pavement daily. My lungs cannot take this anymore, sia.