This is the ironclad rule of life: in that moment when you desperately, piss-in-your-pants need a cab, you'll never get one. When you don't, they're all meekly parading in front of you.
Between the hours of 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. they're the most horrible creatures on the face of the earth–foul, scheming, thieving, sniveling, snarling bastards whose asses you just want to backhoe. There are times when the taxi driver becomes the symbol of the total breakdown of social institutions and the spirit of decorum and all that is good and decent in man.
I know, I'll get bleeding-heart comments like, "No. You don't understand them. They're only like that because they need the money." To which I reply in advance with two unprintable words that start with the letters 'F' and 'Y.' I need money, too, you know. But I don't go around dicking people around.
The following are some of the major cabbie classifications:
The hustler
Like beasts of prey, they'll pounce on you when you're desperate and helpless–i.e laden with 10 shopping bags and a big-ass pizza box. And it's raining. Sonofabitch will charge P400 for a ride that costs only P60. There is a wonderful place in hell reserved for these lovable creatures.
"Traffic, eh" can be the most infuriating excuse you'll ever hear. Tell me, which part of Metro Manila doesn't have traffic? It's about as common to this godforsaken city as bad air and Willie Revillame songs. Edsa is slow and heavy? Stop the freakin' presses!
Plus, there are times when it's implicit that they get to keep a 10-peso change as tip. But my friends, these are equally tough times for all of us. Bastards don't even have the courtesy to say thank you.
And be wary of the "batingting"– that small device hidden somewhere under the driver's seat which, when pressed, jacks up your meter.
