In transit

Almost daily, I make my way to our friendly neigborhood shopping mall for one of three reasons:

1. to buy food
2. to buy supplies
3. to watch a movie

Almost daily, I am confronted with the trivial, yet troubling decision of whether to take the piece of perfumed paper handed out to me by a promo lady or to ignore the gesture and walk on. When I do accept the paper sample I simply put it in one of my pants pockets and forget all about it. When I don't, I think about how life would be like for me if I had to hand out little pieces of paper for a living. Every time, what I do hinges on a split-second, arbitrary decision.

Regardless of what I choose to do, I always start wondering how things would have turned out had I chosen the alternative. Most people would say it wouldn't make much of a difference what I did. They would probably be right 99% of the time. What keeps me up some nights is the remote possibility that one random action will drastically change my private reality.

What if one night, the act of receiving a little piece of paper and sticking it in my pocket slowed me down enough so that a potential mugger, idling a few steps away, set his sights on someone else instead of me? What if that split-second, arbitrary decision kept me from losing my life?

Scenario: I am on my way to the cinemas on the fourth floor of the mall. I step on an escalator and expect my short 'ride' to be as normal as always. Suddenly, I lurch forward a bit and hold on to the railings for support. I immediately realize that the stupid escalator has simply stopped moving, leaving me in between floors. I recall seeing halted escalators in this mall before, but have never been on one when it actually happens. I reluctantly climb manually to the top. I am seriously pissed. I let it go, but think that the mall must have some serious issues with its escalators.

The incident actually happened to me some days ago. It has absolutely no bearing on the pseudo-existentialist thoughts I typed earlier.


I passed by this little bazaar in an open area of the mall a while ago, and at one point I got a very brief glance at some of the wares on display. I had to hold my thoughts a bit after leaving the bazaar behind, because I had a hard time processing what I had thought I'd seen. They were not merely phallic symbols. They were penises carved out of wood. They might have been dildos (although I can't imagine anyone wanting to shove anything like that into any of their orifices), or possibly paperweights.

I haven't been able to verify what they actually were, as I was on my way to lunch at the time, but I don't actually want to know.

There are many things in life I will never completely understand. Like why shopkeepers would ever attempt to entice people to stop by their stand by displaying wooden dildo-like thingies. Or why the people who manage the mall aren't bothered by the fact that random escalators keep refusing to move and that people might actually be on them while they act up. Or why I obsess about little things like pieces of paper handed out to me by promo girls.

In less than a year, I will begin my first year of actual medical education. I am headed along a path requiring nothing from me but compliance. Barring accidents, mental breakdowns, and other unfortunate events, I will in time become a medical practitioner with a reasonable income and a secure future. Some people would say that I'm on the right track.

If you ask me how my life has come to this point, I will not be able to give you a definite answer. If you ask me whether I believe that this is my true calling in life, that I truly believe that this is what I'm supposed to be doing, I will answer, "Maybe."

I cannot speak for the future. As for the present, no one can equip me with the means to be able to make the right choices. No one even knows what the right choice really is. All I am certain of is that this is what I have chosen and I will stick with it.