Kuya Cab Driver and his, ehrm, uhm, balls...

On most nights, my journey home is a two-part trip.

First part of the trip is bus ride from Makati. It's the exact same bus line I take in the morning. You can say that that bus line is the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see at night just before I get home. Haha! Good thing I'm a creature of habit. I've been taking that route for the past three or so years.

The last part of the trip after I get off the bus is a short cab ride, about 5 minutes. I have the option to walk a little and take the jeepney and walk a short distance to reach home, but I almost always choose to take the cab even if that means having to wait a while. I'm a major Manila paranoid, and having two instances where a knife was held up to my face was more than enough to make me thing that the city (Manila, at least) turns into a bad, bad city at night.

Feeling ko lang naman kasi mukha akong kaholdup holdup dahlia galing akong Makati. Tapos ang ganda ganda pa ng bag ko, di ba, so afraid talaga?! Bwahaha! Feelingera!

Anyway, the other night I was standing right at the same spot where I would always wait for a cab - in front of a 24-hour Mcdo so that there's always good lighting in the area - and I was able to quickly hail a cab. What made me more happy was it was an R & E cab. Haha! Yeah, even when it comes to cabs, I'm a sucker for labels. Wahaha!

I got in the back seat, put down all the stuff and tell Kuya where we were going. He paused a bit in his seat, as if contemplating.

It was late. I was tired. I wanted to get home. I just had to blurt out in a pleading voice, "Kuya, sige na. Malapit lang iyon."

What is usually a quiet trip home suddenly changed when Kuya started a conversation, a conversation that really woke me up. Haha!

"Doctor ka ba?," asked Kuya.

"Hindi po," I replied (in my head I was smiling because it probably meant I look like a doctor. Hahaha!)

Because I was a bit concerned and because I was already getting used to listening to cab drivers' sob stories (is that weird?), I asked him a bit more, "Bakit po? May sakit po kayo?"

"Sumasakit kasi iyong itlog ko pag nagmamaneho," replied Kuya casually.

Okay. Wait. Stop. I didn't see that coming.

He didn't.

We pass by a road hump and as his car went over it, and Kuya continued, "O, ayan. Ganyan. Sumasakit ang balls ko."

TMI, Kuya, TMI. Stop it.

Though I was concerned with Kuya (in general and not with his balls), I tried to offer some ideas of what may be causing the pain in his balls.

"Baka naman po hernia iyan. Matagal na po ba iyan? Baka naman may ginawa kayo? (Uhm, did I really want to know? Haha!)"

Thankfully, I already reached my stop. I just told Kuya to go see a doctor. Because really, what can I do, da buh?

If Kuya were Aki or Carlo G, it would be completely different. Even if I have to hold his balls on our way to the hospital, I would do it lovingly.

Okay, your turn to say TMI. TMI. Hahaha!