Last night, I flagged a cab along Kalayaan avenue. Being sleepy and in a hurry to get home, I got into the first cab I saw and didn’t wait for one with a reputable name anymore. As soon as I got in, the driver swiveled his body and established full-on eye contact with me. Creepy. Texted plate number immediately to my friend Dianne, who was the last person I was with.
Manong driver: Anong oras na?
Jae: Mga 10 p.m. po.
Manong driver: May pambayad ka ba sa taxi?
Jae: (frowning slightly, shifting in her seat): Opo.
Manong driver: Kasi may ibang babae, pag walang pambayad, ano nalang ang binabayad eh. (*wink*)
At this point, I texted Dianne again, telling her about the creepo driver. My house, which is just a good ten minutes away, suddenly seemed so very, very far. I asked the driver to pull over, handed him a P50 bill and went down as fast as I could.
I really, really hate this sense of vulnerability. In UP Village, where I work, motorcycle bandits have been plying the village streets and snatching bags from women. Two of my friends have been vitimized already (both in my company…). Now, I cant even walk from our headquarters to Eunilane without breaking in cold sweat everytime I hear the sound of a motorcycle from behind. And I used to love walking along those tree-lined streets.