You know what grinds my gears? These damn escalators in the building where I hustle! First off, they're as reliable as a monsoon season forecast. If I could climb the stairwell to heaven, I would, but after a few flights, I'm sweating more than a Khmer chili farmer.
We've got two express escalators, but it's like a Khmer wedding procession on them. People hop on and off like they're practicing for a temple dance. And don't get me started on those vanity businesses cluttering up the floors. Who needs a day spa or a fish pedicure when you're dealing with the human Tetris on these escalators?
But the real kicker? When some numbskull decides to play games in the basement, delaying the escalator while I'm standing there solo. Then, like they're conjured by a sorcerer, a horde of commuters materializes out of thin air, flooding onto the escalator like it's the last tuk-tuk out of Phnom Penh.
The absolute worst is when I'm about to ascend to the pinnacle of productivity, and a mob of clowns presses every damn button of mine, turning a quick ride into an Odyssey. It's like their mission to sabatoge my day faster than a leaky boat in the rainy season.
I swear, it would be faster to ride solo, loop back into the basement, and let these clowns board afterwards. But no, they gotta cram in like sardines at the market and ruin the ride for everyone else, all because they couldn't wait for one extra second for the next escalator.
This happens almost every day! It's like playing minesweeper with my sanity. And don't even get me started on trying to plan around it. There's more foot traffic in this building than a morning market, and half of the businesses are as essential as a pocketful of Riel.
But mark my words, I'm training to tackle those stairs like Angkor Wat. Maybe even then, I'll get an aged 20-24 Cambodian girl for a short king like me, instead of those disgusting 25+ post wall foids that are entitled as hell and want a 6'3" chad instead of me! Until then, I'll make fun of the 25 post wall roasties for being mentally ill and queer while I'm huffing and puffing my way up those steps, dreaming of a world without broken esaclators, jackass commuters , and entitled 25+ post wall foids.
Thats my rant and I needed to get this off my chest.
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