crookster

Earlier today i went to my cousin’s house at the other side of the barrio to deliver some documents. The bloggable thing did not happen way until i was on my way back to our house, alighting from the tricycle. But since the story wouldn’t have been set properly without the requisite introduction, i am doing this now, mentioning that i went to the other purok to give something to my cousins who live there. The trek back to the house isn’t really that blister-inducing to the feet; and considering that the beautiful Sunday sun hasn’t yet reached its zenith that time, it was an awful good thing to just have walked back to the house, saving money and having a bit of exercise while at it. But since the addict was keen on watching at least two samurai 7 episodes before lunchtime he elected to hail the next tricycle he saw, swooping by the road.

Now, to the juicy part:

“Manong, ditaak laeng village, apagbaba ti rangtay. Pakisirrek laeng bassit ah” [Hey mister, my stop is just right after the bridge, but can you please have your tricycle enter the subdivision just a bit], the gentle passenger quipped, knowing a few meters of detour won’t be much of a hassle; i’ve done it countless of times before and i haven’t met a single negative reaction, not until this specific moment with mr. tricycle driver.

“Agbayad ka aya ti baente pesos?” [Are you gonna pay twenty pesos for that?] With that remark, i immediately tapped him on the shoulder to stop, saying “haan, ditoyak laengen” [nope, i’ll just alight at the corner]. In my mind i have already cut the bastard to a million tiny pieces. what does he think of me? Gullible, rich me? Do i look like i’m gonna fall for something like that? If it’s plain rudeness oozing from his pores, well he better keep em all plugged up coz i have no intentions of licking them. He could have said it nicely, that he doesn’t feel like doing a door-to-door delivery today, and i would have understood. Oh well, some people are just born ill-mannered; either that, or he’s a crook through and through.

I immediately got down from where i was seated (i was behind the fuckster), and proceeded to pay. I handed him the twenty peso bill that i had, expecting a change. The fare going to town costs ten pesos, but the intra-barrio fare just costs about half of the town fare. To my surprise, he handed me forty pesos as change. He apparently mistook my money for a fifty peso bill. The fuckaroo had intentions of swindling me by getting ten pesos from what he actually thought was a fifty peso bill. Well, for all his bad intentions, i took the forty pesos and proceeded to walk nonchalantly. A few steps away from him, and a few smiles wider at how karma is working, i got a shout from Mr. High I.Q. asking if what i gave him was a twenty peso bill. Without batting an eyelash i told him “yes”. He immediately gave me the correct fifteen peso change and took the forty pesos from me. I smiled back and proceeded on my walk home.

The corner where i dismounted was filled with tricycles and their drivers waiting for their turn to get passengers coming out from our subdivision. They stood witness to everything that transpired and before the fuckster was able to restart his engine, he got an ample serving of kantyaw/ alaska from the crowd saying “hahaha, haan mo aya ammo ti itsura ti baente?” [hahaha, you don’t know what a twenty peso bill looks like?]

Ah, instant justice.