October 15, 2014

The taxi driver and I was chuckling about it. "I thought it was you he was screaming at," I said - there he was this other taxi driver who was fuming with rage when the other taxi (which I chose, since he sped, cut the other taxi, and stopped right in front of me) I ignored one rainy Monday night. We had a good laugh, fraternal, even, as if reminiscing about a snotty playmate. For the entire ride we were chuckling about it, and I got down at Gil Puyat station, bought a family-sized cinnamon bun at Mimipan, crossed the street to chase the last bus to Los Baños, and in their reclining chairs I slept towards home.