Unbounded

Why is it that every time when you’re running late, commuting, the sun will always be at its brightest, hottest, that the air conditioning of the car you’re riding will always be broken, that the driver will always drive slow, and that there will always be a whining, crying baby/kid right beside you (with drool and sticky baby/kid sweat)?

So I was running terribly late yesterday, helplessly realizing that Fridays along Espana and Quiapo will always be packed with cars, an hour and a half in the ride (damn devouts!), when all of these happened (I’m not exaggerating, heh).

But wait, it gets worse (or better, depending whether you hate me or like me lol).

Two snooty cono gals got on the back of the white FX (this happened when we were stranded beside the Quiapo Church) where I was in (at the back as well). Funny thing is that, at that time, middle seats were spacious and that we were three guys full at the back. To make the long story short, five sweaty people were cramped at the back of the car when there’s perfectly no reason for it. Oh yeah, one last thing, the two gals were full-figured. Well, imagine that…

******

On a related note, Jeco, can you please explain to me the Economics behind barkers? You guys know what I’m talking about. I’m referring to those arrogant rag-tag, ex-convict looking, burly looking guys (who could well put their physique into better use by, say, working at the wet market carrying goods, or be hitmen, lol) who does nothing whole day except shout and pretend that they’re helping passengers look for the FX destinations that they need. And in turn, drivers mandatorily give tips (or alms in my eyes) to them.

I absolutely fucking hate them. They serve no purpose and their existence should not be promoted, tolerated even.

I’d like to see the day where drivers would go insane and visualize barkers to be pylon roadblocks.