8:00 pm, the biometric reads. It’s late, I thought inwardly, hoping that the queue at Ayala was no more than just a few people.
Lights at buildings, car horns, people walking along side each other, the stop light that shows a green, a pedestrian crossing – the usual bustle at the busy streets of Makati Avenue. Still, the walk to Ayala was 15 minutes top.
An aching feet, a head full of thoughts, top it with a heavy bag all shouts for I cant wait to get to bed. And at Ayala MRT Station, the line was a freaking long queue.
In line I go, good old fan in one hand, the phone on another while I hug my bag at front. Typical ride home when at Makati.
After almost an hour of waiting, aching feet, clammy hands, humid platform, long queue, two (2) skip trains, and more trains, finally came the train to haul us out.
Out of the blue, a woman in her forty’s or fifties probably who was at the end of the line decidedly bypassed the many people queuing in line. Shouts were thrown at her and taps at shoulder motioned for her out.
And boy do you know how Ayala MRT passenger queue gets.
“Ayun ang pila oh!” shouted one not gently. Clearly irritated by the gesture. She continued to push through, though. And before I knew it, I was also tapping her shoulder- not gently, mind you, telling her to go back where she was.
But no. She did not care and pushed through inside sending irritated looks across the females who called her attention. She sneered at us. Telling us that “Ang bagal ninyo pumila eh!”
The guts of this woman, I tell you. I simply cannot let that go you know. We told her that we’ve spent almost an hour queuing to get on the train, that she did not even have the decency to step back and go back to her line.
The smirk on her face. Oh God, please help me.
She declared laughingly, and I quote, “Kayo oras, ako minuto lang,” (referring to how long she queued in line).
She didn’t really fucking care. And she still had the decency to say it proudly, laughing still and said, for the 2nd time, “Ang bagal ninyo kasi pumila.”
Right then and there, I wanted to drag her out the train and tell her to learn how to wait in line. That’s freaking grade school manners!
Deep breaths, I told myself. Count 1-10, I encouraged further.
Tired, hungry, and irritated. I tried. I really tried and succeeded only be a fine line. Still unbelieving at the rude woman who decided that she’ll get ahead of everyone because “ang bagal namin pumila.”