the other morning, i rode the first bus i saw in edsa to go from ayala to cubao. since it was around 4:30 in the morning, the bus did not have many passengers. i was seated at the front, near the door.
the bus stretch in guadalupe is long, and the bus stopped at several points to collect passengers. when it neared the mrt station, the conductor heard someone at the back of the bus banging on the side of the bus, apparently to tell the bus to move on. i didn't think much of it, but i didn't expect the conductor's and the driver's reactions.
conductor: may konduktor ba diyan? may konduktor ba diyan sa likod?
driver: makakarating ka rin, bugoy, makakarating ka rin... wag ka magmamadali
conductor: may konduktor pala sa likod e
driver: bugoy ka talaga, makakarating ka rin.
wait. 1) i didn't know that bugoy was a derogatory word? 2) apparently they got irked by that passenger in a hurry. i thought that was the end of it but...
driver: kung nagmamadali ka dapat maaga kang umalis ng bahay! dapat alas dose pa lang nagbibihis ka na...
and then:
driver: wag kang magmadali, walang trapik o! walang trapik!
and then again:
driver: mag-taxi ka!
conductor: buti sana kung may sarili kang sasakyan, pwede ka magmadali
all this while he was driving the bus. a taxi speeds by:
driver: ayan o, mag-taxi ka, ipapara ko sa iyo!
then the driver stops the bus at one point and tells the conductor:
driver: tignan mo nga kung sino yon, isoli mo yung bayad niya, pababain mo. nasisira araw ko neto eh.
of course, the person in question will not raise his hand and say, ako po yun, sori, or something like that. the driver keeps on muttering:
driver: naku, kung malaman ko lang kung sino ka, aywan ko lang...hindi mo ba alam magte-31 na ang krudo ngayon!
i thought this will never end. my seatmate added his opinion.
seatmate: sarili lang kasi ang iniisip ng iba eh. di nila iniisip yung...
driver: sarili lang ang iniisip. wala ngang pasahero eh. ang mahal na ng krudo ngayon!
and so on and so forth. the tirade ended somewhere in shaw or ortigas. we never got to know who was the passenger who fired up the driver's anger. i don't know if the driver wanted to spite this passenger, or really just wanted to get more passengers, but he stopped at all stoplights: crossing ibabaw, ortigas ilalim (pati ba naman yun!), and stopped at any spot where there was a person waiting for a bus. i was so glad when i saw the fenced mess of cubao.
tuesdays to saturdays:
4:00 pm wake up, take a bath, get dressed
5:00 pm leave for work
7:00 pm eto na! calls na!
4:30 am (the next day) go home
6:00 am arrive home, eat, maybe watch tv
8:00 am sleep
4:00 pm gigising na ulit?!
on sunday mornings, i sleep, then go to mass, then stay up all night by myself brooding. on monday mornigs, i try to do some laundry, fail, go to sleep, then go to makati in the evening. then i spend the rest of the night brooding again. tuesday mornings, i sleep.
Reservations of an Airline Agent
(After Surviving 130,000 Calls from the Traveling Public)
by Jonathan Lee -- The Washington Post
I work in a central reservation office of an airline. After more than 130,000 conversations -- all ending with "Have a nice day and thanks for calling" -- I think it's fair to say that I'm a survivor.
I've made it through all the calls from adults who didn't know the difference between a.m. and p.m., from mothers of military recruits who didn't trust their little soldiers to get it right, from the woman who called to get advice on how to handle her teenage daughter, from the man who wanted to ride inside the kennel with his dog so he wouldn't have to pay for a seat, from the woman who wanted to know why she had to change clothes on our flight between Chicago and Washington (she was told she'd have to make a change between the two cities) and from the man who asked if I'd like to discuss the existential humanism that emanates from the soul of Habeeb.
In five years, I've received more than a boot camp education regarding the astonishing lack of awareness of our American citizenry. This lack of awareness encompasses every region of the country, economic status, ethnic background, and level of education. My battles have included everything from a man not knowing how to spell the name of the town he was from, to another not recognizing the name of "Iowa" as being a state, to another who thought he had to apply for a foreign passport to fly to West Virginia. They are the enemy and they are everywhere.
In the history of the world there has never been as much communication and new things to learn as today. Yet, after I asked a woman from New York what city she wanted to go to in Arizona, she asked, "Oh... is it a big place?"
I talked to a woman in Denver who had never heard of Cincinnati, a man in Minneapolis who didn't know there was more than one city in the South ("wherever the South is"), a woman in Nashville who asked, "Instead of paying for your ticket, can I just donate the money to the National Cancer Society?", and a man in Dallas who tried to pay for his ticket by sticking quarters in the pay phone he was calling from.
I knew a full invasion was on the way when, shortly after signing on, a man asked if we flew to exit 35 on the New Jersey Turnpike. Then a woman asked if we flew to area code 304. And I knew I had been shipped off to the front when I was asked, "When an airplane comes in, does that mean it's arriving or departing?"
I remembered the strict training we had received -- four weeks of regimented classes on airline codes, computer technology, and telephone behavior -- and it allowed for no means of retaliation. "Troops," we were told, "it's real hell out there and ya got no defense. You're going to hear things so silly you can't even make 'em up. You'll try to explain things to your friends that you don't even believe yourself, and just when you think you've heard it all, someone will ask if they can get a free round-trip ticket to Europe by reciting 'Mary Had a Little Lamb.'"
Well, Sarge was right. It wasn't long before I suffered a direct hit from a woman who wanted to fly to Hippopotamus, NY. After I assured her that there was no such city, she became irate and said it was a big city with a big airport. I asked if Hippopotamus was near Albany or Syracuse. It wasn't. Then I asked if it was near Buffalo. "Buffalo!" she said. "I knew it was a big animal!"
Then I crawled out of my bunker long enough to be confronted by a man who tried to catch our flight in Maconga. I told him I'd never heard of Maconga and we certainly didn't fly to it. But he insisted we did and to prove it he showed me his ticket: Macon, GA. I've done nothing during my conversational confrontations to indicate that I couldn't understand English. But after quoting the round-trip fare the passenger just asked for he'll always ask: "...Is that round trip?" After quoting the one-way fare the passenger just asked for he'll always, always ask: "...Is that one-way?" I never understood why they always question if what I just gave them is what they just asked for. Then I realized it was part of the hell Sarge told us about.
But I've survived to direct the lost, correct the wrong, comfort the wary, teach U.S. geography and give tutoring in the spelling and pronunciation of American cities. I have been told things like: "I can't go stand-by for your flight because I'm in a wheelchair." I've been asked such questions as: "I have a connecting flight to Knoxville. Does that mean the plane sticks to something?" And once a man wanted to go to Illinois. When I asked what city he wanted to go to in Illinois, he said, "Cleveland, Ohio."
After 130,000 little wars of varying degrees, I'm a wise old veteran of the communication conflict and can anticipate with accuracy what the next move by "them" will be. Seventy-five percent won't have anything to write on. Half will not have thought about when they're returning. A third won't know where they're going; 10 percent won't care where they're going. A few won't care if they get back. And James will be the first name of half the men who call
But even if James doesnt care if he gets to the city he never heard of; even if he thinkgs he has to change clothes on our plane that may stick to something; even if he can't spell, pronounce, or remember what city he's returning to, he'll get there because I've worked very hard to make sure that he can. Then with a click in the phone, he'll become a part of my past and I'll be hoping the next caller at least knows what day it is.
i was able to watch two episodes of pinoy big brother last sunday and monday. a few minutes after the housemates entered the house and mingled about, and were instructed about their first challenge, i already spotted someone i wanted to evict. my siblings share the same opinion, as well as my friends. the unofficial poll on pinoybigbrother.com has the same results. haha! seems like people can spot an "epal" in just a few minutes.
bimbo, on his part, has already spotted someone to alway watch out for. i believe most guys were delighted by the episde on which all the housemates took a communal bath. was she the girl who was focused by the camera while she was changing clothes in the garden inside her bathrobe? i'm not sure. but even my mother remarked the type of underwear that this lady was wearing. maybe this lady will have a future in showbiz. her face is not that beautiful, although i guess her body is great.
grabe, in fairness, naumay ako sa calls this week. i was averaging 40 to 50 calls per day, go go go, bibo agent! i'm rendering a few hours of ot per week as well, since i'm saving up on something. and at the end of my workweek, i feel like my brain is all dried up. this saturday shift just passed by as though i'm a zombie, going through my calls mechanically, not much thought. maybe it comes with taking calls for more than two years now, haha.
aside from that, i've been reading through the sherlock holmes stories, thanks to k. albert's link on his site. any time i have--break, lunch, before and after shift, idle time waiting for the next call, on hold with the airlines--i sneak into mr. holmes' adventures. voracious reader that i am, i don't stop until i finish a story, even if it may take its toll on me. haha again.
well, here's to a much-awaited weekend! not much money though, since payday won't be until the week after next. but i'll make do with what i have. i don't need to suffer just because i don't have money.
1. borrow money again, and start a mutual fund. does that make sense?
2. borrow money, and start a small business, so that profits can be more liquid and accessible than mutual funds (resurrect my chocolate business?)
3. take up another job that requires only one day a week, preferably mondays (tutoring? a second job will make me overworked. and will the pay be good?)
4. enable my sisters to realize their plans of making and selling accessories
it's difficult not to think about money. it's prelims season. i paid off the balance for my ust sibling, as well as for my high school sibling. and my ust sibling's birthday is coming up as well. these on top of that freakin' house debt.
some benefits of having a weekday off (monday, in my case):
1. i can go to the bank and wait in line to do transactions for all i want. before, i go there monday mornings at 9am, always in a hurry since i have to have my 8 hours' sleep before my shift on monday night.
2. i can now visit school to finally get my diploma which must have yellowed by now
3. i can finally go get a passport by patiently lining up at the dfa!
4. i can meet up with bimbo on monday nights, and hang out at powerbooks while waiting for him.
5. i can check on my siblings' schooling (help out in assignments, projects, etc.)
not bad, not bad at all. of course, i'll miss saturday night outs, and sunday strolling in the malls will be difficult, with me having no sleep and all. but i'll see how i can make the most out of this schedule.
i'm back from my 3-day rest day, and i'm now starting on my schedule of 7pm to 4am, from tuesday to saturday.
yesterday, i went to powerbooks while waiting for bimbo. i didn't know what to read to pass the time, and i chanced upon a copy of robert kiyosaki's rich dad, poor dad which has been removed from its plastic cover. great!
being rich is quite tough, based on kiyosaki's points. there should be a lot of financial know-how on laws, taxation, and business trends. i may have to brush up on that. and the book states that one should build up on assets, to turn into income, which will pay for one's expenses. most people just spend thier income into expenses, period. no investment done. money doesn't work for you; you merely work for money. ain't that something? and one has to take risks--something i'm afraid of.
while i'm typing this, my supervisor asks me to choose from 2 gift certificates, as a little prize for being one of the two top performers in our team (naks). and i got a P100 gift certificate from powerbooks! yahoo! but kiyosaki's book costs P800.
I've been the needle and the thread
Weaving figure eights and circles round your head
I try to laugh but cry instead
Patiently wait to hear the words you've never said
Fumbling through your dresser drawer forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
[Chorus:]
I'm lifting you up
I'm letting you down
I'm dancing til dawn
I'm fooling around
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out
This is not goodbye she said
It is just time for me to rest my head
She does not walk she runs instead
Down these jagged streets and into my bed
When I was
Fumbling through your dresser drawer forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
[Chorus]
There's only so much I can do for you
After all of the things you put me through
[Chorus x2]
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out
