::Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe
With no air
Can't live, can't breathe
With no air
That's how I feel
Whenever you aint there
No air, no air...::
:: became the anthem of a bus-full of commuters travelling from Papine to Crossroads/Downtown this evening.
Packed to capacity, the bus was an acrid mixture of human odour, and stifling body heat. You could feel the steamy vapour rising off the hot tar on the road, squeezing between closely-packed cars on the traffic-jammed route, seeping into the bus, inspiring sticky trickles of sweat down blouse-backs, on necks, on foreheads and behind ears; little beads of sweat on arms and legs and above lips; stuffy, hot air taking a slow choke-hold on every-one's lungs...
When the radio started to play Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown's 'No Air', the whole bus lustily sang along, directing their words at the driver...
"Driver, gi we some breeze nuh!" One irate passenger said, to many shouts of agreement: "Yes, AC, driver, AC!"
The driver, not missing a beat, took up a huge, flat notebook and started to fan. With a little smile, a shrug and eyes pleading understanding, he turned to his audience and sang, "No air, no air..."
The bus exploded with laughter.