Wrong exit

I love to hang fire on most things that I do. I dunno why so dun ask me. Just be gratified that you're not as slothful as I am. Whatever. Oh, my point. Ok. My point is, because of procrastinating, I had to ganti my puasa yesterday since I was so lazy to do that earlier. Leave alone yesterday, I have like 13 more days to go. I know, you don't have to say it. And no, I'm not going to elucidate it either.


Also, yesterday I had to go to Damas. Instead of taking a cab with paid coupon at KL Sentral, I hailed a cab in front to the monorail station at brickfield..cost-cutting measure .Hehe. Usually taxi drivers there are mostly Indian. Imagine my excitement when I saw a cab with a malay driver. And so he stopped the car.


I requested him to follow jalan duta instead of bangsar. It was hot and the driver tuned to RMKL.U know RMKL.WTF? I had a major headache listening to the dj ramblings.If given opportunity I would go to angkasapuri and bash his head for being a moron on the radio. Come onlah but again, it's his cab and it's his choice. On reaching intersection to mont kiara, my colleague called me.So I was bla bla bla with her on the phone only to realize the pakcik missed the exit. He instead, followed the sprint highway. Few minutes later he asked me "Boleh tunjuk jalan tak?" I wish I could answered but the route seemed so unfamiliar as if I'm in Uzbekistan. Instead of responding him with a correct answer I replied "Alamak, saya memang fail jalan.Pakcik masuk jalan lain saya dah tatau".Demm. I mean, he is the cab driver, he should know the route. So the pakcik used his sixth sensed and continued driving until I saw a signboard written Shah Alam -10 kilometer. I was thinking..baik aku balik rumah terus je macam ni.Hoh. Perhaps he was getting pleasure from the ride while mounting his meter.


Like someone said, I easily get irritated. Perhaps you could envisage the way I look at that moment. I bet even mak lampir look sweeter than I did. Glanced at the meter, RM 20. Fuck. Usually it only cost me RM 7 the most to reach damas. The pakcik tried to make some conversation but being someone with audible predicament cum obnoxious tantrum, it didn't help much. He was saying how he wished he took the exit before and bla bla bla. I tried to pacify my self by pinning my ears back to the radio but hello..it's RMKL where the dj talk craps and cackle at their own jokes. I wanted to riposte but I fear everything that will come out will sounded malicious and since I'm fasting I just act as if I'm hearing and pretended that if I'm cool with everything. Sheesh.


Finally when we reached damas..The meter was already RM 25. What? Fuck
Me:Pakcik, macamana kira ni?
Pakcik: Baya jelah brape-brape nak..Pakcik yang salah. Maaflah.Selalunya pakcik jual kat pasar malam je. Ni baru nak bawak teksi.Cuba-cuba
Me:Ohh..Takpelah saya bayar tambang yang saya biasa naiklah *giving him a red note*


Sorrylah pakcik, I'm also facing an economy crisis right now. Initially I only wanted to shell out RM 5 but I guessed that pakcik touched my soft spot. And I found that my fury vanished as I crossed the road...