the joy ride

I got at the office just in time. The time reader says I timed-in at 7:42PM. HR is now strictly implementing rules on tardiness starting this month. Grace period was set to 15 minutes. On my first day (for August) I was 30 minutes late. I embody the typical pasaway - pinoy slang for the delinquents.

Getting on time for work, especially when I am on graveyard shift requires a great deal of effort. Work starts at 8PM. So, to reach the office on or before 8, I have to leave home at 6PM. However, 2 hours doesn't always make it. Most of the time, I leave home at 5:30.

What happens on the 2 and a half ride is the subject of the story.

From home, I take a walk to the bus terminal. Walking within my own domain is not just like a walk in the park. I was once victimized by pick-pocket-gangs in our area. So I walk with great caution, ensuring that my bag is securely strapped around me. I carry a sling bag, like that of the postman's bag. As much a possible, I try to avoid carrying shoulder bags. Unlike the sling bag, shoulder bags have more chance being snatched.

The cautious walk only takes 3 minutes. After that, I take the bus bound for cubao. I'm usually lucky have a seat beside the window. It's my favorite part. Sitting beside the window gives me some sort of powers. I have the power over the curtains, I could have it down or put up. I have the power over the air-condition vent, I could monopolize all of it of have it turned off. Bus rides are not really that difficult. All you have to do is sit, wait for the ticket, pay, look out from the windows, watch tv if there's one and wait until you're already in your destination point. However, not all my bus rides are in that pattern. Chances are, someone annoying will barge in. Here are some of my oh-so-annoying-encounters:

A fellow passenger dozing off to sleep, his/her head falling in my shoulder. Hellow!!!! Bus rides for me are equivalent to rest due to my ever chaotic schedule. If someone did this to me, I purposely shrug my shoulders (with full force).

A fellow passenger trying to make a conversation when I am trying to fall asleep. The last time I encountered such was last month. A guy whose name I already forgot sat beside me, introduced his name, told me he's a professor from this school, blah blah blah.. Not that he's ugly or something, that time, I was not in the mood for leisure chats. He failed to notice that I wasn't at all interested. So, for good manners' sake, I politely nodded and gave out my name, my real name - I should have given out my name as Cleopatra! After that, I immediately shifted my head to the window. Again, he failed to notice that I was NOT INTERESTED. This guy's senses must be as thick as the calluses in my feet when I still to wear toe shoes in ballet. The guy still continued to on his blah blahs, and I just nodded for every word said. Thankfully, I was at my destination point in less than an hour. The next time this happens, I'll be frank, say it straightforward that I am not at all interested. Unless of course, if the guy happens to be a Tom Welling look-a-like, I'd have to think twice.

The manyakis. The manyaks actually ranks at top 1 on my hate-list. These are the cold hearted, bloodless, senseless beings roaming around, prying on their next victims. They don't get their stints on me, as I am always vocal when someone attempts to. I reprimand them in a-la-bella-flores tone, making sure that everyone could here their nasty moves.

The preachers. I've read in one of Jessica Zafra's article that this is one of her most hated part of the ride. I don't really hate the preaching part. I could also get some nuggets of wisdom from those. What I hate is the part where the preacher hands over a brown envelope. I have a friend whose a pastor's wife. She said she too had experienced to preach in the streets, but it was never a part of their routine to ask for money from people. She explained it further, but I forgot the details. She even told me that her once husband reprimanded, in a nice way, a preacher who was asking for money.

Other elements such as bad air conditioning. Repulsive smell that induces vomiting. I used to vomit on bus rides when I was young. The bus drivers who drives like he's having an lbm, although at some point this is an advantage, travel time gets lesser. "Kundoktors" who doesn't give my change even if I am about to get down already.

Either one or two of the above mentioned, I'm sure to get.

After the bus ride that usually takes for an hour to an hour and a half, I take my next ride, which is the MRT at the Mantrade/Magallanes station along EDSA. I take the train going south bound, instead of north bound. This is to ensure that I will be seated all the way, thus having less encounters with manyaks. Manyaks are more widespread in the MRT. I always take the seat beside the doors, so that I won't have to squeeze in through the crowd when I'm about to get down. If I get the chance, I would sit down at the side wherein I'll be able to see the traffic flow north bound of EDSA. I like seeing the traffic aling EDSA going from bad to ugly, and my train is moving ahead. Wicked wicked me. My MRT rides are as thrilling, if not horrifying, as with my bus rides.

If I have some money to splurge, I get down at the Shaw Boulevard station, go down at the Shangrila taxi station, and wait for a taxi.

However, if I'm in tipid/kuripot mode I get down at the Cubao/Aranet station. I take a jeepney that will pass through libis. This are the jeepneys bound for Rosario, Ever, De Castro - heck, I don't even know those places. This is the last ride going to work. Should heavy rains pour down, jeepneys rides at cubao could be like hell. I have once stayed an hour just waiting for jeepneys to arrive. And when they do, my feet and legs would all need an athlete's energy, for I need to run with all my might just to get pass though the other passengers who are also waiting. Imagine, 50 bodies trying to get in at the same time. Whew! Again, manyaks and snatchers are still on the loose, so my senses are still on alert mode.

Jeepney rides from cubao to Eastwood takes 20 to 30 minutes. Getting down from the jeepney and crossing the streets is as thrilling as my previous encounters with the bus, MRT and jeepney. There are no stop lights, only white stripes on the pavement. I am crossing libis, in fact it is a high way, wherein cars drive at the speed of not less than 60kph. One strategy I have here is that I cross with other pedestrians. Now I understand this line better -there's safety in number.

After crossing the street, I now reach the building where my office resides. This is the most unattractive building in the whole of Eastwood. I could still not get at ease yet, because I'd still have to make it through the elevators. Yes, the elevator is a part of my joy ride to work. The elevators in our building are nothing as compared to the elevators of the MRT. Most of the time I'd have to waste more than 10 minutes just waiting for the elevator to come down. How ironic, our building carries the name of one of the largest IT company in the world.

The joy ride is already done once I swipe my proximity card on the time reader. Yeah, another night work, and I'm already exhausted.