Adventures of a solitary kit: Streetwalker

 

I used “kit” since this happened way back when I was still in my little kitty years. *coughs up a hairball*

 

My work at one of my previous companies involved regular weekly traveling around Visayas and Mindanao, loads of stress, weird working hours,  being more familiar to the night watchman and desk clerk at hotels and….. on one eyebrow-raising occasion,  being picked up as a prostitute on the dark streets of Davao City.

 

Really, it was just a matter of time that something like this would happen. But I thought it would be more in the lines of the hotel loiterers thinking I was engaged in some nefarious orgy-related activities and pointing me out to prospective sex-inclined or at least myopic males who did not know any better, rather than having it out in the open on the chilly streets of pre-dawn Davao.

 

What could you expect from the pattern I presented?

 

I was almost without fail, out of the hotel/inn/pension house by night and came back only in the wee hours of the morning, or maybe 2 days afterwards.{because the work I do has to be done during the time the branches were closed so that operations and sales would not be interrupted}

 

I was in the company of different men on different occasions and at different times. It could be we arrived together in a taxi or car or it could be we came from different flights and just caught up with each other in the hotel lobby. {because managers and other co-employees would either be visiting the branch or staying at the hotel during my trips}

 

I was a regular customer of the various hotels and sometimes placed a “Do Not Disturb” sign on my door during the early half of the day. {because I needed to catch up on lost sleep}

 

Still, I shake my head and ruffle my standing fur indignantly when I think back on it.

 

On a closer inspection, one could see that I was loaded down with various paraphernalia such as big boxes of servers or printers or tool-kits or on days when it was a rush trip - luggage which had clothes good for one week of travel. {I try to travel light but I got stuck once in Zamboanga for more than a week with just 2 days worth of clothes} 

 

One could see that I was dressed very casually in dust-covered jeans and wrinkled shirts and the obligatory rubber shoes and jacket. {if you are to travel around Visayas and Mindanao at anytime on any vehicle at a moment's notice, the more comfortable clothes the better}

 

One could see that my hair was uncombed, my face was solemn and I had eye bags for accessories instead of necklaces and bracelets. {that is what you get when you are in IT}

 

Who in their right mind would think I was out looking for a romp in the hay? Or whatever surface available to do the horizontal tango?

 

Still, after all that is said and done, I really could only attribute it to the darkness – that and the undiscerning eye of the taxi driver and his customer. Either that or the guy was just plain horny that anybody would do.

 

It was before 4 am, and I had just finished ensuring that the server could be up and normal operations would go on that day for the employees. No doubt the security guard was eager to go back to snoring on the comfy sofa as after he closed the door and locked it, he disappeared quicker than I could walk towards the road. I crossed the street to wait for a passing taxi on the other side as that would be the direction of my hotel.

 

I waited and after a few minutes, I noticed that a taxi was parked on the side I had left, near the darkened corner of the neighboring bank. I waved languidly for the taxi to come over. I was tired, a bit hungry and travel-sore since I had just arrived the other day via a bus ride from General Santos City.  I had not even gotten out of my rumpled clothes I traveled in yet, since I just dumped my bag at the hotel and rushed to our office upon arrival less than 8 hours ago.

 

I hoisted my bag of tools, smoothed my hair and bent down to the taxi driver to ask if he could take me to XYZ----- hotel. Before I could even open my mouth -

 

My jaw dropped to the road when he propositioned me blatantly. It was 3 seconds before I could react to ask dazedly as to what he was talking about. I incoherently mumbled “Pwe…pwe-de? A…aaah-nong pwede… sa ano?!! kayo!!...”  {translation: Can? Can what.... On what?!! You two!!}

 

The last word was squealed in a high-pitched tone. I frantically looked around the area (darn, no other humans in sight!)  and tightened my fingers on my bag. I was mentally preparing myself to skewer the guy with either my screwdriver or soldering iron if I could just open my bag quickly enough. Then run as if all the hounds of hell were after me back to the branch and pound on the door. That plan flashed in my mind in the next half-second. Plan B was to scream..but unfortunately on that side of the road, it was only a mental hospital facility which was at my back and I didn't think it would do any good at all.

  

The driver looked at my bugged-out eyes and my bared teeth. After a long second, he said “Never mind,” and made a u-turn to park again at where I had first seen him. If he had waited a few more seconds I'm sure saliva would have dropped from the side of my mouth the way it would from a rabid dog. Remember that this was the time that you hear all kinds of stories in Davao.

 

I still had adrenalin pumping in my veins two minutes after when I was comfortably ensconced in another taxi and on my way back to the hotel. The driver this time glanced at me sympathetically and made conforting noises when I blurted out in a series of fast sentences what had just happened. Upon arrival, I ordered room service and promptly fell asleep.

 

The next week, I was back in my Cebu home. I eagerly told my parents over dinner what had happened, complete with gestures and even acting it out for them.

 

There I was expecting my dear dad have his protective instincts come to the fore and to loudly lament on how his beloved, precious daughter was almost thrown into the jaws of a hormone-addled wolf if not for her quick wits and daring (glaring eyes are still daring), and to give me a sermon on how I was to be careful and to make sure I was in bed before 9 pm so I could be protected from the evils of the big, bad men.

 

What was my protective, conservative  let-me-shoot-that-guy dad’s reaction?  

 

He laughed.

And he laughed some more.

 

My mom smiled sympathetically.

 

My jaw dropped to the floor…and it was a long time before I could pick it up.

 

Welcome to the mysterious world of ...men!

 

 

 

Location: Makati City

Mood:  pouty thoughts

Music: drilling noise below my floor