> my name is joe and i drive a taxi
i was told last night point-blank (via phone); that: i am "full of it".
and of coz that's all that was said. no reason why. no examples given. and that im just "that" and that would be end of it.
and of coz that wouldn't be the end of it. not if i can help it ...
but it'll haveta be, for now anyways ... *bleh*
and of coz she hadda constantly get my name wrong lah ... nahbey ... heh :p
that, and that i might actually be a taxi-driver in disguise. (okay i made that up, but more like a taxi-driver reminder her of me ... nahbey) ... not that taxi drivers are bad folks or anything like that ... most of the time i like talking to 'em ... most of the time ...
disclaimer: taxi-ladies generally do not like to talk to me, i orso dunno why. (or maybe tis becoz my beard makes me look cheekohpek? BAH) - so i ain't being sexist here, no? heh :)
When I Dun Liketa Talk To Taxi Uncles
(1) when tis the end of a fugging loooooooooongass day and all i wanna do is slump in the backseat and make like a wetragdoll and close my eyes and tune everything else out (if not sleep, unless tired like dawg) = but haveta talk to uncle becoz tis late at nite and the dude's about to nod off in the middle of the ECP ... nahbey
(2) when im coming in from a muthafcuking pissed mood/moment and just wanna slump in the backseat andsulk fume and mayhap try to maintain a sense of serenity = but uncle's having a riproaring time goingon about the muthafcuker-of-a-previous-customer or the basturd garhmen and suddenly my pain ain't as excitng nor as loud as his is and all i can do is to nod in agreement with sporatic bouts of "orh", "izzit?", "wahlaoeh, how can like that?", "uh-huh" and yet numerous "orhs" ... nahbey
(3) when all i wanna do is slump (i sense a pattern forming) in the backseat of the cab anddaydream porn stone = but uncle's in a chatty mood and i'd be just plainass-rude to ignore him ... nahbey
Why I Love Talking To Taxi Uncles
(1) becoz most times, it helps to pass the time. and after a hearty chuckle or a dozen = *BLINK* = you're where ya wanna be already. and if the convo's good; you'd leave the taxi with a smile. and hopefully they'll drive off with a smile and a lighter heart as well ... i like that feeling. :)
(2) tis always good to hear differing views of different peeps. becoz idamn kaypoh am interested in what peeps haveta say and feel about whateverthings, from as mundane as where the best tehtarik stall used to be, to whether the new ERP is just another ploy to con squeeze moolah out of the everyday man on the road ... and nothing is taboo ... and i guess there's something about one-on-one convos that i like (and perhaps many others as well) for regardless of however short or long a trip; two person's (drivers and ours) lifes intertwine ... and tis how we make of it that'll "determine" the worthiness of that occurance.
and of coz folks will just say im waxing lyrical over just a fugging taxi-ride and that i've lost my marbles ... which is basically true what! lost me marbles longtimelieow! nahbey ... heh ... whatevera lah ha? :p
(3) a coupla taxi uncles (recently) had shared something about singapore's past (of a particular singular place) with me and have since inspired me to (try to) script a story/movie. bless them. inspiration comes from anywhere and everywhere, you find it not ... they find you ... itz that or taxi drivers will tell you ... heh :p
(4) becoz some of the best and memorable experiences with your travelling-lives happen when you hear them tell their tales!
here are some highlights:
The Travelling Salesman
where once there was a malay-uncle, who was all polite and decent (malay uncles usually are, most times mistaking me for a malay boy and start speaking to me in malayu and then i blur lieow :p) who from the usual banter of "what are you working as?" to a sudden: "do you know what is tongkat ali?" = whereby he pulled out his namecard for his sideline sole-distributership for the aforementioned "traditional-aphrodisiac/medicine" and promptly offered me a free sample, for which ishould've taken kindly declined ... and of the many positive health properties of tongkat ali (for which i've forgotten everything else except ...) and of the visual memory image of him: right arm/hand on the steering wheel and the left arm in a folded upright position; to show the strength and hardness of one's dickydoo after partaking of said sample ... which haunts makes me laugh til this day ... :)
The Casanova On Wheels
where once after a late night shoot (around 2am?) on way home, tired and battered, when this gentleman (pesudo-eurasian-grahgo-mix) asked me if my "wife" would be angry with me for going home so late. for which i said iwas not married ... and dun ask me how (for i have surely forgotten) but the convo veered totally south and he begun to describe his casanova-ways of-the-road, where he constantly picked-up ladies in his cab, or rather: ladies pick him up ... and of the times where they'd constant call and badger him to vist them for a quickie or three (while their husbands were away) ... and of how all ladies like to take it hard and sure as heck as he could give it to 'em *POW-POW-POW* (his exact verbal description - i lurve it! ;p) and all the manly-postuering was mixed in with emotional moments of his former lost and of his wife being in another country and that he missed her and loved her ... and of his kids hating him ... and then back to his powerful love-truncheon (i coined that, thank yew berry much dey) ... and it was such an enjoyable time chatting and laughing, i actually stayed in the cab and chatted for over 20minutes, even when i've arrived and he'd stopped his meter! heh. good fun dey.
*POW~POW~POOOOW* ;p
Zen and The Art Of Taxi-Driving
where once enroute to a client meeting on a particular morning, after an entire night of not sleeping (rushing out the presentation) and hence pissy and grumpy, sat like a growling animal at the backseat, barking orders to my guys down the phone ... and when i finished the convo, the kind chinese uncle (who had loads of buddhist images and symbols all over the cab and of the suddenly chants over the cd turning louder and louder) spoke to me in an extremely serene tone and promptly begun to advise me on the ways of us mere mortals and of the material existential world and how we should counter it and improve ourselves (all vague now - the details of which i have totally forgotten, to my dismay really) and surprisingly i actually listened, where most times i'd brush it off (coz i dun like "the hardsell" in whatever religion) and i actually calmed down (which was a farking hard thing back when) ... and when i got off the cab, he passed me a pamphlet (which i chucked) and off i went to the meeting with renewed vigor and energy = i aced the meet and came out (then) a happy and satisfied man, for my own personal achievement (rather than material gain).
and yes, i used to be such a taxi-whore. took it to work and home. and to near everywhere i went. for years. years. (so that's where me moolah went? spoiltbuggah lah i admit *PUI*) ... and of coz now my transport-tribulations' a different bag all together ... since me is broke, i travel via buses and MRTs = and that is a whole other round of mixed experiences to beobviously shared in another entry/entries to come (or basically when im running dry of shitte to spew lah dey) ... heh ;p
and oh yes, one more thing i like about talking to taxi uncles = tis thelies false illusion of a life i live that i sometimes share with them ... i've had varied careers. i've been married (but no kids always). i've been a faded-star (xiang3 dang1 nian2 wuo3 hong2 guo4) and many others im ashamed to mention now ... my philosophy in taking cabs (as with most plastic-life): you bullshitte me, i smoke you out more muahahahahahha! ;p
and suddenly it feels the same as blogging, again with the many different personas peeps present over the net, truth or entertainment ... you'd not really know for sure, do you? ... but then again, as said at the start of this entry (or rather extorted by my accusor): "i am full of it" ... am i?
heh.
tis a friday night and im at home, forgive my ramblin' ... NOT! muahahahahahah BLEH :)
and of coz that's all that was said. no reason why. no examples given. and that im just "that" and that would be end of it.
and of coz that wouldn't be the end of it. not if i can help it ...
but it'll haveta be, for now anyways ... *bleh*
and of coz she hadda constantly get my name wrong lah ... nahbey ... heh :p
that, and that i might actually be a taxi-driver in disguise. (okay i made that up, but more like a taxi-driver reminder her of me ... nahbey) ... not that taxi drivers are bad folks or anything like that ... most of the time i like talking to 'em ... most of the time ...
disclaimer: taxi-ladies generally do not like to talk to me, i orso dunno why. (or maybe tis becoz my beard makes me look cheekohpek? BAH) - so i ain't being sexist here, no? heh :)
When I Dun Liketa Talk To Taxi Uncles
(1) when tis the end of a fugging loooooooooongass day and all i wanna do is slump in the backseat and make like a wetragdoll and close my eyes and tune everything else out (if not sleep, unless tired like dawg) = but haveta talk to uncle becoz tis late at nite and the dude's about to nod off in the middle of the ECP ... nahbey
(2) when im coming in from a muthafcuking pissed mood/moment and just wanna slump in the backseat and
(3) when all i wanna do is slump (i sense a pattern forming) in the backseat of the cab and
Why I Love Talking To Taxi Uncles
(1) becoz most times, it helps to pass the time. and after a hearty chuckle or a dozen = *BLINK* = you're where ya wanna be already. and if the convo's good; you'd leave the taxi with a smile. and hopefully they'll drive off with a smile and a lighter heart as well ... i like that feeling. :)
(2) tis always good to hear differing views of different peeps. becoz i
and of coz folks will just say im waxing lyrical over just a fugging taxi-ride and that i've lost my marbles ... which is basically true what! lost me marbles longtimelieow! nahbey ... heh ... whatevera lah ha? :p
(3) a coupla taxi uncles (recently) had shared something about singapore's past (of a particular singular place) with me and have since inspired me to (try to) script a story/movie. bless them. inspiration comes from anywhere and everywhere, you find it not ... they find you ... itz that or taxi drivers will tell you ... heh :p
(4) becoz some of the best and memorable experiences with your travelling-lives happen when you hear them tell their tales!
here are some highlights:
The Travelling Salesman
where once there was a malay-uncle, who was all polite and decent (malay uncles usually are, most times mistaking me for a malay boy and start speaking to me in malayu and then i blur lieow :p) who from the usual banter of "what are you working as?" to a sudden: "do you know what is tongkat ali?" = whereby he pulled out his namecard for his sideline sole-distributership for the aforementioned "traditional-aphrodisiac/medicine" and promptly offered me a free sample, for which i
The Casanova On Wheels
where once after a late night shoot (around 2am?) on way home, tired and battered, when this gentleman (pesudo-eurasian-grahgo-mix) asked me if my "wife" would be angry with me for going home so late. for which i said iwas not married ... and dun ask me how (for i have surely forgotten) but the convo veered totally south and he begun to describe his casanova-ways of-the-road, where he constantly picked-up ladies in his cab, or rather: ladies pick him up ... and of the times where they'd constant call and badger him to vist them for a quickie or three (while their husbands were away) ... and of how all ladies like to take it hard and sure as heck as he could give it to 'em *POW-POW-POW* (his exact verbal description - i lurve it! ;p) and all the manly-postuering was mixed in with emotional moments of his former lost and of his wife being in another country and that he missed her and loved her ... and of his kids hating him ... and then back to his powerful love-truncheon (i coined that, thank yew berry much dey) ... and it was such an enjoyable time chatting and laughing, i actually stayed in the cab and chatted for over 20minutes, even when i've arrived and he'd stopped his meter! heh. good fun dey.
*POW~POW~POOOOW* ;p
Zen and The Art Of Taxi-Driving
where once enroute to a client meeting on a particular morning, after an entire night of not sleeping (rushing out the presentation) and hence pissy and grumpy, sat like a growling animal at the backseat, barking orders to my guys down the phone ... and when i finished the convo, the kind chinese uncle (who had loads of buddhist images and symbols all over the cab and of the suddenly chants over the cd turning louder and louder) spoke to me in an extremely serene tone and promptly begun to advise me on the ways of us mere mortals and of the material existential world and how we should counter it and improve ourselves (all vague now - the details of which i have totally forgotten, to my dismay really) and surprisingly i actually listened, where most times i'd brush it off (coz i dun like "the hardsell" in whatever religion) and i actually calmed down (which was a farking hard thing back when) ... and when i got off the cab, he passed me a pamphlet (which i chucked) and off i went to the meeting with renewed vigor and energy = i aced the meet and came out (then) a happy and satisfied man, for my own personal achievement (rather than material gain).
and yes, i used to be such a taxi-whore. took it to work and home. and to near everywhere i went. for years. years. (so that's where me moolah went? spoiltbuggah lah i admit *PUI*) ... and of coz now my transport-tribulations' a different bag all together ... since me is broke, i travel via buses and MRTs = and that is a whole other round of mixed experiences to be
and oh yes, one more thing i like about talking to taxi uncles = tis the
and suddenly it feels the same as blogging, again with the many different personas peeps present over the net, truth or entertainment ... you'd not really know for sure, do you? ... but then again, as said at the start of this entry (or rather extorted by my accusor): "i am full of it" ... am i?
heh.
tis a friday night and im at home, forgive my ramblin' ... NOT! muahahahahahah BLEH :)
