Tuesday, November 08, 2005



Though it was quite early in the evening, the guy seated between me and the driver was in a state of inebriety worthy of the wee hours of the morning. He could hardly sit up straight on the passenger seat, let alone keep his eyes open.

I'd give him a nudge with my elbow from time to time - hard enough so that he'd sway back to his place and away from my shoulder, but not so hard as to prompt him to spew his stomach contents. Should the drunk bastard hurl, say in the general direction of the pasenger door, I would definitely be in harm's way.

While I was contemplating whether I should play it safe, get off the jeep and wait for another one (not a good option - it was still the evening rush) or wait to see if Mr. Gin-breath gets off before I do, something fell on my lap.

It was a lizard.

A small, brown house lizard.

It crouched, unmoving for a few moments as I wondered how it got on the jeep. Did it fall from the driver's garage ceiling? Did it hatch from an egg laid by a mommy lizard that fell from the driver's garage ceiling? Did it get on the jeep after lining up at the Pinatubo Terminal like the rest of us? And so forth.

Then, it jumped towards the drunk (yeah, I know...leapin' lizard), and I never found out where it landed.

Oh. And I was able to reach my stop without being puked on.


The jeep I was on (a different night, and a different, lizard-free vehicle this time) had stopped in the middle of the intersection.
Several cars began to blare their horns from different directions. From where I sat at the very back of the jeep, I craned my neck along with the other passengers to peer at the driver.

He was probably in his late twenties, unkempt hair flowing out his baseball cap, basketball jersey sweat-stained. Beside him was, I presumed, his wife (and co-pilot?) and his daughter, a grubby toddler who stared back at us between the driver's seat and the middle passenger seat. The second passenger seat was vacant.

The driver leaned out his window.

"Oi," he shouted towards the road's opposite lane. "Oi! Cellphone mo!"

A man in an office barong came running across the road. He said a breathless "thank you" as he retrieved his phone.

The jeep resumed its journey through the length of Boni Avenue.

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