Sarao

"Para!"

Cars buzzed and the sound of wheels and horns overpowered the heavy thousand-or-so footsteps pounding the ground near Gilmore. In the distance, the newly opened Family Mart blasted Problem by Ariana Grande. The gargling of the LRT leaving the station drowned the many words flying about with the cigarette smoke, mostly spinning around quizzes in St. Paul and the problem customers in SYKES.

A nineteen-or-twenty-year-old man in black slacks and a white polo with each sleeve folded up thrice flicked his wrist up and down several times, his index and middle fingers now pointed toward the ground.

The jeep honked its characteristic cackling laughter horn before it stopped in front of him.

He walked to the back. He got in, flustered. His back was arched awkwardly, trying to avoid the orange light bulbs lined up on the roof of the jeep. He paused. He didn't know if he should sit near the driver or closer to the door. He remembered he didn't know how much to pay.

He sat down as close as he could to the driver.

Puta, may amoy dito. Si manong amoy pawis. He kept that to himself, thinking he might smell just the same. He propped his bag up on his legs, fixed his collar, and swept his hair to the right side of his face.

"Kuya, magkano po hanggang sa may Nagtahan lang?" He inquired in a loud voice, trying to be heard amidst the radio blasting from the other jeep.

 "Dyis," the driver answered.

He remembered his mother telling him to always ask for the discount. "Piso rin 'yun no," he recalled her exclaiming.

"'Pag estudyante?"

No answer. The driver honks the horn at a pedestrian who ran across the road. There was no pedestrian lane.

"Eh kapag estudyante po?" he asked again.

He swore he heard the driver mumble.

'Puta naman oh,' 'yun 'yung sinabi n'ya, he thought.

"Otso!" The driver announced.

Putang inang gago 'to, kala mo kung sino! Makasigaw ampu-! Malay ko ba?! Tangina murahin n'ya ako nang harap-harapan kung matapang s'ya! Ano bang natapos mo, gago? Tang'nang 'yan! Pasalamat nga sya natatagalan naming sumakay kahit amoy na amoy 'yang anghit n'ya 'nak ng pucha! Kaskasero pa ang gago!

He paused. Inhale, exhale, he told himself. He got his wallet out of his left pocket and took a coin from the recently emptied picture compartment. The coin left a crease on the plastic and on the brown leatherette holding a used Globe prepaid card. He put his wallet back in his right pocket.

"Bayad po," he spitefully announced to the whole jeep. The girl in blue seated right behind the driver wouldn't even look at him.

He moved his left hand up and down while holding the coin, trying to get her attention.

She looked.

"Makikisuyo po," he requested.