Last night’s experience is worth breaking my blog hiaitus for.
Like all of my friends know, I’ve had more than my fair share of taxi experiences, including one who offered me money to buy myself spam because I looked sad, and a manyak one whom I stabbed (okay, more like a daplis in his hand that wouldn’t require more than a checkered band-aid.) But this one is in a class all its own.
After a round of beer with Enteng and Bobby at Pork Barrel, I decided to call it a night a little past 11pm and hopped into a taxi. The driver was chatty from the get-go and never one to turn down an opportunity to have a pleasant conversation with a kindly stranger, I responded to his friendly overtures.
Then he suddenly turned to me and said, “Hindi pantay ang balikat mo at parang may sakit ka sa kidneys.”
I sat up with a start. I don’t know about the pantay-balikat part, my shoulders seem perfectly fine in the mirror, but I have been having problems with my kidneys.
And then he said, “Wala ka pang anak ano? Mababa ang matris mo. Mahihirapan ka magkaanak.”
I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I have always loved kids and there is nothing I want more than to be a mom. And it shook me so much because it confirmed what a doctor had gently warned me about before. I remembered that afternoon when the doctor told me that. It was just a warning, but I felt someone had taken a cutter and shred my heart into ribbons of red.
Not noticing my consternation, the driver went on and on.
“Yayaman ka. Aasenso ka sa buhay. Wag ka lang masyadong magastos. Matuto ka din mag-save.”
I looked out of the window, barely listening. I hear that from my mother a million times.
“Magkakachance ka mag-abroad, pero bakit parang ayaw mong kunin? Parang ayaw mo umalis.”
I nodded my head. He was correct, but I didn’t want to get into a long discussion about why I do the work that I do. I wanted to hear what else he had to say.
“Wala ka pang asawa. May nobyo ka na ba?” To which, I nodded.
He then asked me the name of my “nobyo” and asked for my name. Now, I know this is something I would ordinarily not do, but my curiosity got the better of me. I gave both our names. He then asked me to hold out my palm and he felt my wrists.
“Nakakarinig ako ng four bells. Compatible kayo.”
“Four bells. Nadidinig ko lang sa isip ko. Pag one or two, di masyado compatible. Pero pag three or four, ayun, compatible. Nasa inyo yan kung magkakakatuluyan kayo, pero pareho kayo mag-isip at pareho kayo ng ugali.” Hmm. Many people would probably say that my nobyo and I couldn’t be more different from each other.
The taxi was now turning the bend towards my house. I didn’t realize we were almost there until the driver prompted me by asking whether he should turn left or right after Tomas Morato. When we were close to my house, he swiveled his body back to face me and said:
“Pero ang paalala ko sa iyo na sana wag mong ikagagalit… mag-isip ka ng sampung beses bago ka mag-asawa.”
Heard ya loud and clear, Manong.