The Public Transport Conspiracy

I'm getting sick of Starbucks... right now...within a span of 2 hours, I've been in 2 Starbucks outlets already. Within the last 12 hours... 3.

I think I have about enough of Starbucks already. Right now, I am actually writing this from a Starbucks... Why?

Because there is a major public transportation conspiracy here in Bandar Utama.

I had a coupla of hours to kill after a job I did here in PJ... so I thought I'll just head on to One Utama to get some work done before I head off to my 7:30 PM presentation... of course when I say to get some work done, it means at Starbucks.

6:30... it looks like a good time to get going... an hour seems plenty, considering that I'll have to wait for a cab and shit. The taxi stand at One Utama is void of any taxis... strange. I thought maybe if i were to walk out to the main road my chancesof getting a cab would be better.

Little do I realize the terror that lays ahead of me.

Usually when I try to grab a cab, I'd walk along the road (it's a habit I developed... don't ask me why) as I wait...

I walked...

and walked...

I kept walking...

30 minutes later I find myself at Centerpoint Bandar Utama. Still no signs of a cab... I thought maybe I should just stop walking and wait here, lest I end up in Inner Mongolia.

I waited...

and waited...

I kept waiting...

I sent my director (whom I was supposed to present to) an SMS:

"Sorry... I think cabbies are allergic to Bandar Utama"

I kept waiting, the cabs that were passing by refused to stop for some strange reason. The tick tock reads 7:30 PM now. Back in my driving days, this is somewhere I frequent quite alot, but today... for the first time in my public commting days I felt a sense of vulnerability. Suddenly, it feels like as if any attempt to get anywhere by public transport from here is impossible. No buses passing by, no cabs passing by... nothing. Despite the familarity, I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere with no way to get out of it.

It's like when I was in Loas travelling on the 'highway' to Xam Neau. I remember how the truck I was hitching on dropped us in this lil' village by the 'highway' (excuse me for quote unquoting the word 'highway', In Laos, a highway is equivelant to the jungle dirt roads we find in Borneo). I asked the villagers, how often does any vehicle passes by this road... 'Oh maybe 1 hour 2 hour... maybe 1 or 2 times one day'. Even in such circumstances I felt it was easier for me to get a ride (which I eventually did) than right now here in Bandar Utama.

In my feeble mind I'm beginning to draw a theory... a conspiracy theory. I have reasons to believe that cabbies are paid to not come to Bandar Utama... and If they do come, they are probably instructed to never pick anyone up. And who is behind this racket. Well, car sales and dealerships of course. By ensuring that public transport remains crappy here in Bandar Utama, the somewhat affluent community of this sub-urb would rush out in throngs to buy cars. "To hell with public transport", they'll says.

This frustration is causing me to once again failing to differentiate between my spoken words and the words that are going through my head. From my mouth, I began to murmur 'fuck! fuck! fuck! what the fuck! argghhh! fuck!'... little do I realize that I am articulating these words... The man who was waiting in the same taxi stand looked at me funny and kept a distance.

I called my director...

"I think If I can't get a cab in the last hour it would be highly unlikely that I can get one in the next hour. Maybe we should reschedule."

And reschedule we did... I then did the most intelligent thing and asked my sister come have dinner with me here in Bandar Utama... That way, after dinner she can send me to a more godly place where I can grab a cab or a train or a bus, or whatever home... Or probably just a cab.

And here I am waiting for my sister at Starbucks... she is yet to arrive.

I am now listening to Bjork's Medulla.