A somewhat hysterical woman is screaming as I get off the transfer bus. “Bangkok? Passengers for Dubai? Dubaaaaiii? Baaangkok?” I ask what the screaming is about. Yes, I am going to Dubai. Show me your boarding pass, she yells. I don’t have one. Need to find the transfer desk. She is almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I still haven’t got a clue of why the hell she is shouting like a maniac. Well, I ignore her and mind my own business. Usually works best.