I can’t drive.
I’m always driven… not by ambition but by the others! In my previous life, I must have been one of those princesses who required an entourage of four ample-bodied men ( at least ) to bring her from one point to another on a tandu. Imagine the misery that those men had to go through just to ferry the Sultan’s princess ( translated: me! ) from one castle to the other, or from one country to another. Think of Princess Hang Li Po or Puteri Gunung Ledang!!! As I would be a super-shoppaholic princess, I thank God they did not have Pavilion, The Gardens, Berjaya Times Square back then!
Anyway, earth calling everyone – so, I am not a princess and I don’t live in the Malaccan Sultanate era. No big deal. The fact still remains that I cannot drive. In fact, based on my ( lack of ) performance and achievement, I qualify to be nominated as the Life-time President of PWCD ( People Who Cannot Drive ) Association. Actually, it is an honour to be in this association as it is rare to find people who are not driving nowadays! ( *Tatt, Norli – there’s still hope for us! ) Thus, this entry which is dedicated to all the cab drivers that I have encountered … and those kind-hearted friends ( and ex-boyfriends ) who have suffered just to send me to places at the strangest hour of the day … is born.
Being a Communication lecturer, a taxi ride is always the best place to practise on my communication skills. Other than letting me master on both *verbal and *non-verbal theories, it helps clarify the difference between *one-way and two-way communication.
Throughout my years of stay in this capital of
I once met a taxi driver who operated his own radio station ( via his taxi ). Imagine boarding into a cab and being entertained by a DJ. It was fun listening to him entertaining all the other taxi drivers with his chatty remarks and playing requested songs on air. He also gave a traffic overview to all the other ‘listeners’ – very much like the services offered by existing radio stations nowadays. Thankfully the driver did not conduct a live interview with his passengers or else, I would not make it to the office on time! ( I would surely have so much to talk about!!! )
Contrary to my mom’s fear regarding her daughter’s safety, I have also encountered a few kind and concerned souls on my taxi trips. When I was staying in Keramat, I frequently traveled in a particular taxi that one day, the driver let me rode for free since he did not have the small change for RM50. Imagine! Most people would make such a row over that! Another famous taxi story would be the pakcik who sent us home on one of our girls-night-out event one early morning, in which, living in a Malay neighborhood, we wanted to make as minimal noise as possible. The kind-hearted pakcik actually waited for us to safely unlock the gate and of course, the front door’s grills… Just as we were to about to enter and let out a relief sigh, he gave the loudest, friendliest goodbye honk ever!!! Of course, there are drivers who got so familiar with us ( being the regulars of Wall$t ) that they would straight away inform the other fellow drivers; “ This one goes to Keramat! That one goes back to Jinjang! ” We did not even need to tell the drivers our addresses – some kind of VIP treatment, right?
Some drivers drive their taxis full time, some do it during their spare time. Some hold regular jobs, some irregular. It is not surprising that my one-time encounter with a shaman happened in a taxi. ( Imagine, some people have to search high and low just to find these mediums! ) Tales of married people who kena buat, wives who discovered that their husbands have gone astray, an angry landlord who wanted to chase the current tenants out, a police station which is haunted by an angry spirit – I listened with awe. It was then the pakcik turned to me and asked of my status. Upon discovering that I’m still single, he offered to help cepatkan my jodoh by asking me to visit him and bring him my ….. cosmetic! ( Phew… Was I relief!! I thought it would be something else! ) Anyway, he offered to give me a crash reading based on my name ( and the person that I was seeing back then *); and oh my, I went to the office telling everyone about this shaman!
There are other taxi drivers who would just keep to themselves, letting you do your own stuff, and there are also DOM ( Dirty Old Man ). The former gives me the serenity that I need especially when I need to prepare myself for my 8.30 am classes or mark what ever assignments / quizzes / tests that should have been marked during the long weekends. As for DOM, I would straight away reach for my cell and busily text my friends or dial any numbers and engage myself in the most animated conversation ever!
My inability to drive ( just because I once successfully steered Bapak’s car into the kolam ) has also caused anxiety among those closest to me. A dear friend often claimed that she would be pulling her handbag by the time she reached her home at Gombak after a night out. The poor girl had to send me off to Melawati or Keramat or where ever I was staying back then, and another friend back to Jinjang ( or vice versa ) – so by the time she reached the comfort of her own home, it would either be very late or… very early ( the following day )!
Another kind-hearted soul often troubled by my princess-like quality would have to be a friend-cum-younger sister whose car I broke into early last month! In our enthusiasm to get to the famous Satay Samuri, we found ourselves locked out – the car keys dangling innocently inside where else the two of us were standing next to the car, grinning from ear to ear. Having mastered the art of car-jacking ( from her! ), I managed to unlock the car. ( Never under estimate the power of … someone who cannot drive! )
“ What do you mean, you can’t drive? #@*&%@!!! ”
Okay, so I’ll learn how to drive… I promise… There’s no need to swear! As for the time being, TAXI!
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