Taxi Driver, Plugged

Starting this year, I was either late for work everyday or absent. Yesterday, the HR person called my attention for all the absences and tardiness that I have accumulated. She says that the Management is going ape-sh!t because of the number of hours that was wasted because of my rebellion self-imposed schedule. Now I will have to make an effort AGAIN to wake up at 6 freaking AM from Monday to Friday to be able to make it to the MRT before 7:30 and be at work by 8. I really am hoping that I can do this even for just 1 week straight.

On our way to work this morning, B and I flagged a cab on the other side of a narrow road while we were walking towards the busy street ahead. This conversation transpired while negotiating for a ride:

This taxi picture is not mine. Just took it off somewhere in the 'net.

Cab driver rolled down his window.

Cab Driver: Saan kayo?

Doesn’t it piss you off when a cab driver has to ask first where you are headed to BEFORE they let you in in their cab?

Me: MRT!

At this point, B and I were already slowly walking away because we’ve had enough of these kind of cab drivers to know that this one isn’t any different.

Cab Driver: Camachile?
Me: MRT!
Cab Driver: Pasig?

We are totally losing interest and started ignoring him.

Cab Driver: Ah ewan!

WTF? Like it’s our fault that he can’t either understand or hear us. Maybe he needs some serious ear cleaning. He’s a cab driver so I’m pretty sure “MRT” has been uttered to him one too many times. I wonder how many passengers he has taken to the wrong place. This reminds me of this cab driver who took me to Aberdeen Court when I know that I said “MRT Quezon Avenue”. That was pure bloody horror.