ONE Tuesday evening, in the thick of rush hour, at a popular mall right along Edsa. The day’s heat had given way to a downpour, a short one, after which it became unbearably hot again.
The taxi queue on Julia Vargas Avenue was building up. More people were joining the line than cabs were actually stopping and conveying passengers. As a result, people waited, on average, 45 minutes to one hour from the time they lined up to the time they actually got into one.
After nearly an hour of standing, Liv and her younger sister Lizzie finally were the next in line. Lining up greatly diminishes the chances of a driver saying no to your destination, so they felt happy that at last their wait was coming to an end. It had been a stressful day at work, the heat was enervating, and the two girls looked forward to resting their backs, stretching their legs, and getting home, even if it meant inching their way there.
Just as she was about to open the car door, Liv felt a tap—a poking, actually—on her shoulder. “Miss, miss,” an elderly man in white shirt and khaki shorts said, quite imperiously. “Don’t you know how to read?”
He pointed to a sign at the post, which read something along the lines of priority being given to the elderly, pregnant, disabled, and women with small children.
And then it dawned on Liv that the old man had in fact been hovering for a few minutes at the head of the line, muttering that his back was aching and that it was difficult to be old. He never said a word to the two or three previous passengers who got their rides, though.
Liv was aghast at such arrogance. She was just standing in line like everybody else, and he really didn’t have to poke her shoulder repeatedly and accuse her of not reading signs.
Exhausted from the day’s challenges and from the hour spent standing in line, in shock at being insulted in public, surprised at such display of entitlement and yet reluctant to call out an elderly man for his rudeness, Liv was speechless. She pretended she did not see or hear anything, and shushed the feistier Lizzie who became animated as she answered back to the man. Dazed, she got into the car.
As the taxi pulled away, Liv looked at the man from the window and thought: I would have stepped back, you know, if you hadn’t been so arrogant.
***
It has been more than a week since the incident, and Liv finds herself still thinking about how she could have handled the situation.
She understood very well society’s deference to senior citizens. They worked hard all their lives, took care of who are now the main actors and decision makers. They deserve a measure of comfort in their advanced years. Little things like discounts, hassle-free transactions and yes, priority on queues are the least we could do to care for them.
What rankled was the way the man asserted he was entitled to the privilege.
Liv thought: Should she have ignored the man’s behavior and given in, anyway, by virtue of his being old? Charity has been defined as continuing to love or show kindness to another even when he or she does not appear worthy of it.
She would grow old, too, one day, and certainly she would have to depend on the kindness of strangers. Would karma catch up and put her in a situation where she would be resented rather than helped?
Or should she have ignored his seniority and retorted with a few choice words of her own?
A brilliant reply came to mind—a full 15 hours after the incident (and why does such sterling wit always come belatedly?). She could have pointed to the sign as well and said: “Oh, but didn’t you know there was an exception? The rule doesn’t apply to a**holes.”
Filipinos—Asians in general—are deferential to the elderly. In fact, it does not have to be forced on us. It’s a natural thing to care for your parents when they are no longer as strong as they used to be. In fact it’s more than love; it’s piety. They get to our nerves sometimes but that’s inconsequential. We are there for them anyway.
The attitude goes by extension to the others—grandparents, aunts and uncles, ninongs and ninangs, neighbors, family friends, and yes, strangers. Some may be rude, but sometimes rudeness itself is a cry for help.
Her reaction could be argued as human, even natural, but in the end, Liv concluded, there is a reason such signs are hung and such privileges are legislated. The law does not distinguish between the elderly—and the elderly who are bullies.
Liv says that if the incident were to happen today, she would give up her cab for the elderly man. Another ride is bound to come, anyway.
