Punch-drunk love

December 7, 2007

There’s actually a funny story last night.

I was on a jeepney having just come from my parents’ house in Bunawan, some 21 kilometers away from the poblacion, for my father’s birthday.

It was around 9 o’clock or so and that’s when it usually gets interesting because that’s the time when the drunk passengers go home to their wives, mistresses or miserable lives. So we stopped in front of the Tibungco Public Market and two passengers embarked — a woman and his boyfriend — and sat beside me.

The guy was sitting next to me while his girlfriend was to his left. You know those guys who had a few drinks and they think they’re already invincible? Well, the son of a bitch next to me was exhibit 1, your honor.

He was irascible during the whole ride, acting drunk and always testing the kunduktor (the driver’s little helper) whenever they stopped at intervals to solicit passengers. His girlfriend was doing her best to look disinterested, probably embarrassed, or proud that her boyfriend was such a badass. 

Assessing them both with my judgmental eyes, I didn’t understand what she saw in him. The girl was okay: sexy, knew how to dress, milky skin. And don’t blame the dim lights either because even with the bad lighting and my bad eyes, I could still see he was ugly as a turd.

I guess it really is true, good girls are attracted to bad boys.

Okay, pull out your calculators people because we’re doing a little bit of Algebra:

Question:

The fare from Tibungco to Agdao is P13.00. The girl handed the guy P20.00 from her wallet.  How much should the guy add to cover both their fares?

Answer:

Nothing. Because the guy was not only drunk, he was also an idiot.

We stopped at Barangay Jerome. The two morons alighted and the guy paid the kunduktor the P20.00. Naturally, the kunduktor protested and they had an argument. The drunk guy was maybe four inches taller and 10 kilos heavier so the kunduktor let it go and went back to the jeepney.  All the while, the girl still looked bored.

As the jeepney set off, the drunk guy was still letting the kunduktor have it. Perhaps thinking he was already in his turf and his homies was sure to back him up in case there was a fight. I didn’t think the kunduktor heard him so remembering what my grandmother told me to be always helpful, I called the attention of the kunduktor and tattled.

Next thing I heard was the kunduktor right hand banging on the jeepney’s roof and in one motion, grabbed a paddle from somewhere and dashed after the drunk, who bolted so fast towards the waiting trisikad drivers you never think he had alcohol in his system.

The kunduktor stopped in the middle of the road as the bastard pleaded for help from his homies. Though I could not overhear their conversations, the drunk was really animated, pointing to the bad guy with the paddle like a small child telling on somebody to his mother.

So before the whole thing escalated, the kunduktor wisely went back to the jeepney and we sped off.

I knew it. The drunk son of a bitch was a sissy.

And where’s the girl, you ask?

She was casually crossing the road towards her boyfriend. Still bored.