Where is the love?

Need I speak?

Train of Thoughts

With the usual push and shove I entered the MRT (Metro Railway Transit) going towards Edsa Taft to board the LRT (Light Rail Transit), I just came from The Reading Room, Sandy's Shop at the former Marikina Shoe Expo site.

It was a good idea for the MRT people to reserve an exclusive ladies, kids and senior citizen cab. At least ladies don't put too much effort in trying to shield your body from unwelcome touches, accidental or otherwise and finding balance before the train leaves the station.

Looking around one realizes that each individual there (at least) sports a pondering or far away look. Some expressionless, others with a smile on their lips and some eyes crowded with worry. Mostly females, you wouldn't miss one or two checking out other girls' get up and accessories mentally judging.

This is the perfect definition of the phrase; train of thought.

Shortchanged

He was pretending to look for coins, which was obviously not there and if there were then he would pretend it did not exist.

Dressed in dirty white polo, time-worn sando peeking from the inside, dark pants he looked at me and flatly delivered a mantra I always hear before I alight, “wala ho ba kayong barya? Wala ho kasi akong barya eh.”

Sighing I rummage in my bag to look for the exact amount needed. I have heard this line too many times that I am tempted to say the words even before I hand in my payment.

Retrieving the one hundred peso bill, I handed him a fifty peso bill saying, “meron po pala dito.” Then I look him straight in the eye, expectant, alternating my gaze from him to the red figures in the taxi meter which proclaimed what I owed him, forty five pesos, no more, no less.

He too looks at me questioningly, wondering what was keeping me in his smelly cab. His first impression would be I was either a loony or a scrooge.

A month in Metro Manila does not make me an expert on how it is to live here. But coming from Baguio City where taxi drivers are known to be honest, considerate and often courteous, it is quite hard to recover from this culture shock.

Bite me!