Today I took a taxi home. From Rachel's house which is far far away in Yew Tee. And it was around 11pm in the night? The usual time I take a taxi so as not to incur the dreaded money burning midnight surcharges.
I conversed with the taxi driver for a while, in mandarin of course, and through snippets of random conversations here and there, I started to feel really sad for him. He asked me about why I was going so far and I said I came from my girlfriend's house. Then he told me he was divorced and that sometimes things just happen that way. He kept asking if the music was okay, or if he was driving too fast. (Since he was going at 110km/h pretty much throughout) Haha but me being an adrenaline kid said no he was not fast at all.
Everything just kind of added up in my thoughts towards the end of my journey, and I was quite depressed when I left the taxi cause I just learned that he was a 61 year old divorcee working the midnight shift driving a taxi. I mean, that's not the rosy picture of life we aspire too. What does he think when he's alone in the taxi driving around at night? Okay maybe it's not my place to form conjectures and conclusions, but it got me thinking a bit though.
I haven't posted in almost a year (9 months to be exact). So why not a post now? Hahaha.