Cab Wars : Revenge of the Bitch
Sitting quietly with thoughts on “How to Torture a Cab Driver 101” at the backseat of a dingy, on-the-verge-of disintegrating, gasping-for-life mechanism that is considered as public transportation, I couldn’t help but think, “What a way to end a crabby day that has curiously rendered me constantly fluttering in an odd delightful state.”
I’ve been mean the whole day, and quite having fun at it. I was taking jabs at people who don’t necessarily deserve it. I was constantly ignoring people I usually talk to, and I was chatting up folks that were normally a hundred miles from my conversational acquaintances. The only time I wanted to do something nice for my friends at work, I winded up potentially getting my boss into trouble because an email that she sent (Alerting her staff that there might be a PC-Sweep that day. Us lowly employees are not allowed access to the web. But of course, there are ways.) was forwarded by yours truly to some people who coincidentally were having their inboxes checked for spam emails. I am truly sorry, but right now all I can think of is “Way to go dear woman. Way to go.” I am sorry, I really am. And I will do whatever it is within my scheming abilities to worm our way out of it even if it means putting myself right smack in front of the firing line. Record? What record? Mine’s pretty much fucked up already. I don’t give a rat’s ass (But please let me work until I find a new one.) My boss has been really lenient on me, and I couldn’t ask for any other to replace her hence I would stab myself right in the eye if my carelessness screwed up her job. See what I’d do for you if you managed to win my respect? I’d go the extra mile. I’m going to work that one out tomorrow.
So where was I. I’m in a cab. I hate going the long way because 1. I have a TV Show to catch and 2. Cab fare is boring holes into my poor dilapidated wallet. By this time, I was already having a staring contest with the driver through the rearview mirror. I had to let him know I wasn’t happy with him. By the time he made a right turn on my street, I pulled out my wallet, and out of habit I say, “Manong (Filipino term addressed to a preferably aged-male in the service industry otherwise known as Dude), change for 100”.
The idiot turns to me and says “Ano, hihingi-hingi ka ng sukli? Bakit nagbayad ka na ba?”(“What? You’re asking for change? Why, have you paid me yet? I don’t think so.”).
Hohohoho. Way for thin ice mister. Way for thin ice.
I said, “Manong, sinasabi ko lang sayo na magbabayad ako ng isang daan para makapaghanda ka ng sukli.” (“Dude, I was only telling you in advance that I’m paying a hundred bucks so that you can prepare or at least anticipate the change that I am expecting”). And of he goes ranting about how stupid I am to ask for change when I haven’t paid.
“Ano akala mo sakin? Walang barya?” (“What do you think, that I don’t have change?”). To this I snigger half-resentful and half-humored, of course 80% of the time cab drivers say they “don’t have change” leaving you to pay 100 bucks for a 50-buck worth of lousy driving. “Tatawa-tawa ka diyan. Hihingi ka ng sukli di ka pa nagbabayad,” (“Go ahead, laugh. You’re the one who’s asking for change when you haven’t paid yet.”) he said while he hands me a 20-peso bill that looks as if it had been use to wipe someone’s ass.
I got out of the cab, attempted to close the door, changed my mind when I heard that he was still ranting, poked my head back in for one last sniff of that disgusting lemon scented pine tree thingy, and quietly said “Yes jerk, shut up now.” I slammed the door shut, and hurried along lest he decides to run me over.
Trotting along the street (With “Singing in the Rain” playing at the back of my mind.), I thought “Yes J***, you showed him.” When I got home, I went straight to the phone and relayed my little adventure to Jamie (Who I bet was watching MTV the whole night waiting for that ONE commercial with Orlando Bloom who makes the word “tsunami” sound oh so…sensual. He’s not gay goddamnit! Who coincidentally is also the bringer of common sense to my little obsessions and trifles). As always she knocked some sense into me. “J***, you sounded like a spoiled upper-class yuppie. Shame on you. Next time, if you’re going to argue with a cab driver do it in a way that he will understand.”
Yeah. I could have said “Ang bobo niyo manong. P*tang Ina niyo!” (“Dumb nitwit! You son of a bitch!”)
But that’s too mean. I’m not that big of a bitch. I only called him a “jerk”.
*Halo*
*Angel’s choir singing in the background.*
I could have flipped him the bird. Robert, a friend from work, could warrant that this actually works, as it seems this is a universal language that is understood by people of all occupations. But then again, the cab driver tried to run him over. But that’s entirely another story.
I’ve been mean the whole day, and quite having fun at it. I was taking jabs at people who don’t necessarily deserve it. I was constantly ignoring people I usually talk to, and I was chatting up folks that were normally a hundred miles from my conversational acquaintances. The only time I wanted to do something nice for my friends at work, I winded up potentially getting my boss into trouble because an email that she sent (Alerting her staff that there might be a PC-Sweep that day. Us lowly employees are not allowed access to the web. But of course, there are ways.) was forwarded by yours truly to some people who coincidentally were having their inboxes checked for spam emails. I am truly sorry, but right now all I can think of is “Way to go dear woman. Way to go.” I am sorry, I really am. And I will do whatever it is within my scheming abilities to worm our way out of it even if it means putting myself right smack in front of the firing line. Record? What record? Mine’s pretty much fucked up already. I don’t give a rat’s ass (But please let me work until I find a new one.) My boss has been really lenient on me, and I couldn’t ask for any other to replace her hence I would stab myself right in the eye if my carelessness screwed up her job. See what I’d do for you if you managed to win my respect? I’d go the extra mile. I’m going to work that one out tomorrow.
So where was I. I’m in a cab. I hate going the long way because 1. I have a TV Show to catch and 2. Cab fare is boring holes into my poor dilapidated wallet. By this time, I was already having a staring contest with the driver through the rearview mirror. I had to let him know I wasn’t happy with him. By the time he made a right turn on my street, I pulled out my wallet, and out of habit I say, “Manong (Filipino term addressed to a preferably aged-male in the service industry otherwise known as Dude), change for 100”.
The idiot turns to me and says “Ano, hihingi-hingi ka ng sukli? Bakit nagbayad ka na ba?”(“What? You’re asking for change? Why, have you paid me yet? I don’t think so.”).
Hohohoho. Way for thin ice mister. Way for thin ice.
I said, “Manong, sinasabi ko lang sayo na magbabayad ako ng isang daan para makapaghanda ka ng sukli.” (“Dude, I was only telling you in advance that I’m paying a hundred bucks so that you can prepare or at least anticipate the change that I am expecting”). And of he goes ranting about how stupid I am to ask for change when I haven’t paid.
“Ano akala mo sakin? Walang barya?” (“What do you think, that I don’t have change?”). To this I snigger half-resentful and half-humored, of course 80% of the time cab drivers say they “don’t have change” leaving you to pay 100 bucks for a 50-buck worth of lousy driving. “Tatawa-tawa ka diyan. Hihingi ka ng sukli di ka pa nagbabayad,” (“Go ahead, laugh. You’re the one who’s asking for change when you haven’t paid yet.”) he said while he hands me a 20-peso bill that looks as if it had been use to wipe someone’s ass.
I got out of the cab, attempted to close the door, changed my mind when I heard that he was still ranting, poked my head back in for one last sniff of that disgusting lemon scented pine tree thingy, and quietly said “Yes jerk, shut up now.” I slammed the door shut, and hurried along lest he decides to run me over.
Trotting along the street (With “Singing in the Rain” playing at the back of my mind.), I thought “Yes J***, you showed him.” When I got home, I went straight to the phone and relayed my little adventure to Jamie (Who I bet was watching MTV the whole night waiting for that ONE commercial with Orlando Bloom who makes the word “tsunami” sound oh so…sensual. He’s not gay goddamnit! Who coincidentally is also the bringer of common sense to my little obsessions and trifles). As always she knocked some sense into me. “J***, you sounded like a spoiled upper-class yuppie. Shame on you. Next time, if you’re going to argue with a cab driver do it in a way that he will understand.”
Yeah. I could have said “Ang bobo niyo manong. P*tang Ina niyo!” (“Dumb nitwit! You son of a bitch!”)
But that’s too mean. I’m not that big of a bitch. I only called him a “jerk”.
*Halo*
*Angel’s choir singing in the background.*
I could have flipped him the bird. Robert, a friend from work, could warrant that this actually works, as it seems this is a universal language that is understood by people of all occupations. But then again, the cab driver tried to run him over. But that’s entirely another story.
1 Comments:
In hindsight, you could have said, "That'll do pig. That'll do."
Hehehe.
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