You hate it when you see yourself
Korean cat in Seoul cafe, June 2011. Photo by JZ.
We were in a taxi when the driver pointed to some Koreans coming out of a restaurant. “Mga Koreyano,” he growled. “Magugulang ang mga yan.” (Koreans are deceitful.)
“Bakit naman ho?” (Why do you say that?) we asked.
“Gusto akong dayain,” he replied. “Ihatid ko daw siya sa Laguna, tapos ime-metro? Hindi puede yon.” (One tried to cheat me. He said, Take me to Laguna but turn on the meter. That’s not right.)
We don’t know how taxis charge to drive passengers outside Metro Manila, so we assumed the kontrata system was in effect (They agree on a rate at the start of the trip).
“Magulang ang mga yan,” he repeated.
“Baka ho nagkataon lang,” we said. “Yung mga Koreyano ho sa Seoul mabait naman.” (Maybe it was just that guy. The Koreans we met in Seoul were quite nice.) The first time we tried to use the ticket machine at a Korean train station we must’ve looked so bewildered that someone came over to offer help. As he spoke no English we conversed in signs.)
“Hindi, madaya sila,” the cabbie insisted.
When we got to our destination the meter read 68 pesos. We didn’t have the exact change so we handed over 100 pesos.
“Wala akong barya,” he said peremptorily, showing a roll of P100 bills.
“Meron ho kayong P50?” We had a P20 peso bill.
“Wala, wala talaga.” What he meant was that we should give him the P100 and consider the change his tip.
We weren’t about to give this unpleasant man a P32 tip. A 47 percent gratuity, are we insane?
Fortunately we had a lot of loose change. We gave him the P20 bill and exactly P48 in 5 and 1-peso coins.
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Thank you for the advice. Unlike you forward-thinking types we do not carry P68 in 25-centavo coins at all times, as they would tend to jangle.
However, in the dark days of martial law, some lawyers would pay their activist-clients’ bail in 25-centavo coins in order to tick off the authorities.