I'm at the office right now. Talk about life after death. This is not life actually, this is limbo. I'm just clearing up my desk while I maximize my full blast internet especially if the internet at home is quirky and being hoarded by my brother. Lucky dork whose classes were suspended, better make a report on SONA.
Anyways, this post is dedicated to Mitch whom should know that I, out of meticulously driving MNA, was the source of irritability from a couple of metropolitan drivers in Makati. It started when I woke up, slightly late, and realized that my car is coding and I couldn't borrow my sister's since she has class. I resulted in asking Mitch for a ride to Fort. Out of his goodwill and concern, he offered me to use his car. I would just have to drop him off at his office and pick him up after work. Do you smell joyride? Hell no. As much as his car's smooth and automatic, it's also a certified gas guzzler, a Corona that for a moment you'd want to trade in for a two door Chery. After arranging my seat and feeling the reigns, I looked at Mitch who was having a slight separation anxiety from his car, even if he's not aware with it. He might be at a moment, more concerned with the car than the driver, well make that the two of us. This is not just a wi-fi card I'm borrowing. It's a car. His other expensive beloved.
After successfully driving off, I went out to accomplish my first goal, which was to feed its breakfast. I passed by Dasmarinas and couldn't help but cruise around and view the magnificent houses that one day would pattern my own...wishfully. While I was appreciating the gloomy, tranquil and magnificent structures, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by a small orange dot in the gas meter. The engine tank was not yet empty, but already close to it. Demanding unit of transportation, I say. Regardless, I felt a little bit uneasy. I increased my speed and hoped to get to Petron on time, although that was my paranoia side taking over. After the Petron transaction, I penetrated central Makati and this was where the irritation started.
Well, I follow traffic rules. This might be an uncommon revelation to you, since it's always been required that we all follow traffic rules, but unfortunately some people think they're above all and feel that they only answer to their own time and needs. Some might feel that following the rules actually robs you of "diskarte." Lecture me all you want, but my life strategies cannot be deduced to that of false pretext of "diskarte" on the road, when my life and others' maybe on the line. I'm not one of those who find the adventure in swerving a form of "diskarte", cramping in small places a "diskarte" and actually risking my license for a quick turn on a red signal a "diskarte". I also do follow LANES, which means I don't swerve. I don't also take the right most lane, intended for those who will make that turn, just so that I could be ahead of the pack as if I'm in a drag racing contest, again a form of "diskarte" or "pa-effect." It's irritating when cars block that specific lane when in the first place, they shouldn't be there. Their Stupidity membrane somehow blocked their road logic that the specific lane that they were obstructing was intended for cars who would make the turn. Save your beeping, most of them have deaf ears and high level of inconsideration.
Another irritating exhibit of a driver's magnificent display of traffic mess is actually blocking the intersection. A driver should be conscientious enough to know whether crossing the interesection would be profitable for various exits. If the driver feels that the other side is already jammed, he should be courteous enough to wait and allow the other side to clear up. Otherwise, he would be inevitably blocking other intersection points. What good with that do? Nothing, but... Ah yes, his inclusion to the Stupid Driver Hall of Fame.
I've experienced 2 freak driving stylistics all in one morning and it's really irritating. The road cultprits might think of it as "diskarte" or "getting ahead," but it just makes them a complete and utter public disgrace. Aside from the time, it's the gas consumption that they're trying to murder you with. If I had my way, I'd give them my house address and let them wash my car for a week, with TABO and a pail that they would have to fill up a few meters away. Good thing, I'm the type who follows rules or else, we'd both end up in road rage heaven.
PS: MNA is heavily sedated with gas right now, Mitch. We're both good.
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