The Good, The Bad, and Hey, That's Actually Pretty
I had trouble going to work today. They were repaving our road, so cars in the garage could not be used. I had the village hail a cab for me, and after an hour, a cab finally showed up.
But it turned the wrong way down my street, and decided to go back out instead of checking the proper side.
Frustrated, and nearly late, I walked out of the village and flagged down a cab myself. The cab driver was aged, and the only thing that seemed to be in perfect working condition in the taxi was the fare meter.
The cabbie was a cheerful man, who still had his sense of humor despite the heat.
I glance at my watch. 20 minutes remaining.
Soon though, traffic had us trapped on Ortigas Avenue, heading to Meralco Avenue. As we neared Julia Vargas, the engine gave and was nearly about to overheat.
The cabbie was apologetic, and he did not initially want to accept full payment for my transport. I insisted, telling the man that his engine was about to give, the least I could do was pay him for the distance traveled (and a little extra, asked him to keep the change).
And so, from Julia Vargas, I hoofed it to work.
So... where was I? Bad day. Right.
I had a great day. Can't believe that I actually met one of the nicest taxi drivers in the metro.
He's a good man, and I hope he made it back to his garage.
But it turned the wrong way down my street, and decided to go back out instead of checking the proper side.
Frustrated, and nearly late, I walked out of the village and flagged down a cab myself. The cab driver was aged, and the only thing that seemed to be in perfect working condition in the taxi was the fare meter.
The cabbie was a cheerful man, who still had his sense of humor despite the heat.
I glance at my watch. 20 minutes remaining.
Soon though, traffic had us trapped on Ortigas Avenue, heading to Meralco Avenue. As we neared Julia Vargas, the engine gave and was nearly about to overheat.
The cabbie was apologetic, and he did not initially want to accept full payment for my transport. I insisted, telling the man that his engine was about to give, the least I could do was pay him for the distance traveled (and a little extra, asked him to keep the change).
And so, from Julia Vargas, I hoofed it to work.
So... where was I? Bad day. Right.
I had a great day. Can't believe that I actually met one of the nicest taxi drivers in the metro.
He's a good man, and I hope he made it back to his garage.