Sometimes I hate the Philippines...
Last night my wife and I caught a last movie at Greenbelt 3 which finished at 12:20 a.m. So we drive home. Everything is normal till, near the end of Buendia towards South Superhighway, I feel the engine weaken. As soon as I turn into Buendia, beside the overpass, the engine quits. Battery is okay, but the engine doesn’t rev when I give it gas.
Perfect place too: no street lights in the area. So I call up my Dad to send over the family driver. Seconds later, one of those makeshift tow trucks zooms up in front of me, and six men jump out, all looking sleazy. I wave them off, saying I’m okay. But without even talking to me, they start hooking up the car to the tow truck. Their leader walks up and I smile, "Okey na po, parating na ang tow truck namin."
"Anong tow truck?" he demands. "Kami ang tow truck."
"Nasiraan lang po, padating na ang tow truck ng insurance."
He raises his voice: "E kaya nga ito-tow ka namin sa safe area."
"Salamat na lang po, pero okey na kami." He growls: "Hindi puwede. At bakit wala ka man lang hazard light o early-warning device?"
"Ngayon lang po ako nasiraan, wala pang isang minuto. Doktor po ako sa PGH. Pareho lang tayo nagta-trabaho sa gobyerno."
"E doktor ka pala, dapat alam mong hindi puwede ‘yan," he turns around and tells his henchmen, "Ikabit niyo na!"
Having had enough talking nice to this dickhead, I demand, "Teka, sino ka ba? Ipakita mo sa akin ang ID at papeles ninyo."
He turns menacing: "Lumabas na lang muna kayong dalawa para makausap mo kami." At this point there are two guys behind him and two standing by my wife’s door. And they look drunk or stoned. I mean, who wears shades at night?
I have had enough. My wife pulls out her cellphone to call my dad, her uncle...
"Sino’ng tinatawagan mo?" the man demands.
I bluff him, "Tumawag kami ng pulis kasi ayaw ninyo kami iwanan."
"Ow? Saang pulis?" he sneers.
"‘Yung sa Magallanes."
"Okey lang ‘yan," he goes on. "Kilala namin yan. Ibaba mo na lang ang bintana mo."
I refuse. "Kung ayaw niyo lumaki pa ito, umalis na kayo."
"Bakit ayaw mo kami kausapin?" he yells, as if his barking would make me jump out of the car. What an idiot!
I try to stay cool: "Pare, isipin mo naman ang situwasyon na ito. Sira ang kotse namin. Madilim dito, at ayaw mo magpakilala sa akin. Wala kang ID o papeles. Tanga ba ako? Hindi ako lalabas." At this point my wife is talking on the cell out loud for them to hear, over and over, "Uncle, please report this to the police: if anything happens to us, their license plate is UAE 809."
This does the trick. The guy waves his goons off, "Huwag na ito, hanap na lang tayo ng iba." They unhook my car and zip off without another word.
Minutes later the driver arrives and we tow the car home. But the point is ... oh, what the hell. It’s not safe anywhere anymore.
UAE 809, huh? Let’s lynch ‘em, boys. If no cops will protect us from them, we better take care of ourselves.
The woman calls 9-1-1 on her cellphone, and tells the operator her situation and location. The operator asks her to hold on for a second while she checks with the police if they have a patrol car tailing her for whatever reason. She gets goosebumps when the operator says the police have no unmarked car in her vicinity. They advise her to drive on carefully, and that they’ve dispatched patrol cars to her aide. Within five minutes, two marked cars pass her. One moves up front; the other squeezes between her and the tail-gater. The woman feels her face tense up as two more patrol cars, sirens and lights blaring, zoom up and position themselves to the left and right of the dark car. The police cars slow down and box in the unmarked car. When they come to a stop, a burly man jumps out of the car and heads for the bushes. The cops tackle him to the ground and brings him to the precinct for ID. It turns out he is a convicted rapist who’d just been paroled.
The police tell the woman that she did well in driving and calling 911. She was within her right to not stop and pull over – not for an unmarked car. The safe procedure for motorists, the police advised, is to check if the tailing car’s dome lights are on: patrol cops would want themselves seen in uniform by motorists. They added that motorists, when accosted by police, must blink their hazard lights and slow down to acknowledge, but drive on to a well-lighted area. Policemen understand motorists’ protective instinct. And most important, call 911.
When motorists do stop at checkpoints, they quickly realize that real policemen are as jittery as they are. Those cops are afraid they might stop a band of criminals or terrorists.
Sometimes, the cops are drunk and hungry, and pester motorists for snack money. The motorists invariably give, but drive off wishing that the NPA kills them dead.