The estate where I live is populated mostly by considerate and civilized people, but it does have its share of the obnoxious.
Yesterday I boarded the shuttle bus into an altercation between a middle-age couple and a young man.
At first they were accusing each other of jumping queue, but it didn’t take long for the argument to degenerate into an exchange of abuses, which in Hong Kong inevitably involve each others’ mothers.
What annoyed me most was the fact that the whole thing took place in the first two rows of the seats – the “priority seats” reserved for the elderly, pregnant ladies or other people who urgently need to sit down.
None of the three able-bodied adults had the slightest intention to offer their seats when a mother, who was carrying a huge load of groceries on one hand and balancing her crying baby on the other, struggled past.
And they were telling people to follow rules.
I gave my third-row seat to the mother, to spare her the trouble of squeezing into the back rows.
And get away from the noise.