The plane touched down at 6pm. Tuesday Feb 19. I availed of the airport taxi service after claiming my handbag from the carousel. I wasn’t in a hurry to proceed to the hotel for at that time, it was raining like crazy and I thought that the streets may be filled up completely with traffic.
I took my time, walking out of NAIA Centennial Terminal as if walking through a field of periwinkles and lavenders while the sun smiled at the horizon and the birds and the bumblebees basked in the rays of light. I woke up from my dream as I bumped into the airport taxi dispatcher. He pointed me to a taxicab several feet away.
The driver in a neat gray uniform approached me smiling and took my hand-carry bags from me. He opened the cab door and I got inside in a ‘lady-like fashion’ but no I was just imagining things. He closed the door after me but I rolled down the window and asked the dispatcher if the car plate ends with a 3 or 4. Cars with those ending numbers were banned in Makati every Tuesday. He answered no and thus the cab sped away and proceeded to the exit. The conversation had begun.
Cab Driver : Sir, saan po tayo sa Makati?
Takeshi Bear: Benavidez St., malapit sa AIM. Can you issue receipts?
CD: Sir, wala po akong dalang resibo. If its okay sa iyo po, I need to pass by the old airport and get the receipt stub.
TB: Ok, to the old NAIA then.
CD: Sir pasensya na po sa abala. I apologize.
I could see only his eyes through the rearview mirror. It’s rare to have a courteous taxi-driver. Most of them are ill-mannered and scheming. This one seemed to be very polite. I noticed a backpack at the front seat. I wondered if a passenger left it there.
CD: I was supposed to pick up a passenger today. But he called me up and told me that he couldn’t come.
TB: Oh really. So you got me instead.
CD: He’s a big wig. I often brought him to an expensive hotel in Makati. He always calls me to pick him up at the airport. I use a Toyota Camry to drive him up to his hotel.
TB: Wow. So you have one loyal customer then.
CD: Yes sir. And he’s generous too. He even gave me free airline tickets to Hong Kong.
TB: He must have been very satisfied with your services. So did you go to Hong Kong?
CD: I did. Last December. My girlfriend was working there. But I went home heartbroken.
TB: Why? Did you break up?
CD: Sir, seems to me that you got interested with my story. If it’s okay with you, could I talk about it?
TB: I’m sorry for intruding, but then I had this feeling that your story may be juicy. Ok, why not?
CD: Anyways, since I don’t know you and you don’t know me either so I guess its okay to talk to you about my life.
TB: So why did you split up?
CD: She had a lame reason that her mom disagreed to our relationship because they found out that I am separated from my wife and my 3 kids.
TB: Didn’t you tell her beforehand that you were married and fathered 3 children?
CD: I did. But I told her when we were already 2 months into the relationship. I broke up with her because she never stood by me and she never fought for our love. I decided to let go of her when I was in Hong Kong. We tried to talk things out. Even our friends were hoping that we could patch things up. It was irreparable.
There was a long pause. The cab turned left to Magallanes and ran parallel to the train tracks. His story was like any other taxicab driver’s story. A Soap Opera.
TB: So how did you meet this girl?
CD: I met her at the airport. She was my passenger then. We hit it off because we had things in common. She’s from my town in Pangasinan and she knows how to cook. I also have a passion for cooking which was why we clicked.
TB: Would you ever consider winning her back?
CD: I was really hurt by the breakup. It’s still fresh. I gave all of me to that relationship. Now I’m left with nothing. I spent so much for the long distance calls and the text messages. Everything I earned I spent in calls and texts. I don’t want to her anymore. I am moving on.
The conversation shifted to his ex-wife and how they got separated. The traffic was a bit heavy indeed because the cab driver was able to talk about his being separated from his wife. From what he told me, he gave up on the relationship because he couldn’t understand why she would always go out to party and come home early dawn. They always fight because one got jealous of the other because of some text messages and calls. He said technologies like the internet and mobile phones are agents for destruction of marriages.
CD: I’m really sorry if I poured my story to you. I just wanted to spill my problems out. It drives me crazy.
TB: Well, it could drive your passengers crazy too. What if you couldn’t concentrate well on your driving?
CD: I’m okay. I could still manage to drive safely and well.
TB: So do you always tell your stories to your passengers?
CD: I don’t. I choose people whom I’d like to talk to, those who I think I could trust and those who I think have the patience and the time to listen to my story. People like you.
Ok. So I asked myself why most strangers share their life stories to me. I don’t look like a counselor, a psychologist or a priest. Do I look gentle and approachable that people tend to flash their lives at me?
Then I learned that the cab driver had some college degree. He worked for 4 years as a graphic designer in some ad agency and he spent most of his time in ink and printing department. He loves to drive, which was why he works part time as a cab driver. He is currently waiting for his work visa for Dubai. He may be flying to the Emirates next month.
TB: I think it would be helpful also if you could hang-out with your friends. They could make you forget your problems even for a sec.
CD: Sir my friends have no time for that. And besides they all are working and have families of their own. Well if you like sir, we could hang out.
TB: Hmmm, as much as I want to but I’m just here for a few days. I may not have much free time to spare.
CD: Okay lang po. No problem.
It sounded odd and awkward. I couldn’t quite figure out if the cab driver was flirting with me or not. I got a little suspicious. I don’t know. Was he trying to be friendly or was he trying to talk me into availing some extra services from him? Weird. Could he possibly knew that I was a fairy and he just tried to lead me on? How judgemental of me?
The thought was cut off when we finally stopped in front of the hotel at Benavidez St. He got off the car and opened the door for me. Then I waited for a second as he scribbled something on the receipt. I handed him the money as he exchanged it with the receipt. He smiled and uttered his name. I looked at the receipt and turn back as A. Bautista began to roll the taxi cab away from Benavidez St.