of taxi drivers and persnickety passengers

i don’t know why this particular friday i suddenly got finicky while trying to hail a cab on my way to work. maybe it was because i was bringing a layer of cake to the office for our little bash — an informal workplace ritual where new hires pool their resources together so they could ‘treat’ their co-employees to a lively meal.

or it could have been the weather — it was a cold and wet day and the rain showed no sign of stopping. whatever it was, i suddenly had this absurd idea that i don’t necessarily have take the first taxi i could find just because it was convenient.

20 minutes later, i was still standing at the curb waiting for my ‘ride’ — the taxis were either occupied or heading in the wrong direction, or else the driver’s attention was focused elsewhere. i was starting to get antsy and kept glancing at my watch; then i noticed that 30 meters ahead of me was one of those distinctive pink urinals.

then, as if on cue, an unoccuppied white cab suddenly stopped beside it. out came the burly driver and into the pink urinal he went — well, you can guess what happened next. as he was hurrying back into his vehicle, it occurred to me that he would be passing my way and i could easily flag him down.

i was about to raise my hand when, suddenly it struck me that there was no washing area/facilities inside that tiny pink roadside cubicle… and obviously the driver had no time to do whatever personal hygiene routine he goes through after relieving himself. gaaah!

abruptly i turned around and pretended i didn’t even see the taxi when it slowed down beside me. mercifully, after a few seconds the vehicle left.

about 5 minutes later, another cab (yellow this time) came into my sight. and just when i was gearing up to hail its driver, this taxi also stopped beside the same urinal. the driver got out — well, you know the drill…

to make this long story short, i finally managed to get a taxi 10 minutes later. halfway to my destination we stopped as the traffic light flashed red. suddenly i noticed that the driver was touching his face and glancing at his rearview mirror every now and then. for a moment, i thought “whoah, this driver is really vain about his looks.” it took me a while to realize that he was actually squeezing whiteheads off his face and wiping the residue on his sleeve! (ugh!) he didn’t even notice that the light had turned green until i told him about it.

i don’t know if this makes me overly fastidous, but there’s something objectionable and hysterically funny about riding a taxi being handled by a driver who can’t even wash his hands after peeing. puh-leeze. i know it’s highly possible that most taxi and bus drivers do this all the time — i wonder if the MMDA has ever factored this basic detail into their plans? — but getting into a cab just a few seconds after the driver has answered the call of nature sans washing is definitely a big turn-off.