Cheaters

Inquirer Opinion / Columns
http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=74802

Youngblood : Cheaters
Inquirer
Posted date: July 04, 2007

ANOTHER WORKING DAY HAD ENDED. I LEFT THE office at past six in the evening, which was later than usual. Since I moved in here to my new job, I usually step out of the building as the clock strikes six.
I must say that that day was different, not only because I left the office later than I used to but because I felt lethargic and frustrated. I was exhausted from the day’s work, and frustrated because I was supposed to get my salary (which was two days delayed) but still didn’t have it in my hands at the end of the working day. The accountant promised to pay me the next day, which meant I had to wait one more day to pay my tuition in full.
Adding to my frustration was the difficulty of getting a ride on a bus. After waiting for nearly an hour along the sidewalk of Gil Puyat Avenue, I made up my mind to take the next bus that would stop even if it was full.
Five minutes passed before a bus finally stopped. Just as I imagined, it was awfully jam-packed. But desperate to go home and get some rest, I got on the bus and found myself being choked inside it. It was so crowded that I could smell the vinegary stink of the man standing radically close to me. The driver seemed insensitive and greedy, stopping to pick up more passengers even if there was no more room inside the bus.
One man blurted out in protest, “Ganito pala ang feeling ng mga sardinas sa loob ng lata(So this is how sardines feel inside a can)! ” The sarcasm made me smirk.
It was just a 30-minute trip to LRT Buendia, but the fatigue I felt made it seem as if I had traveled all the way home to Bicol. Passengers who went on and off the bus always seemed to bump into me. At every stop where new passengers got in, the conductor kept reminding us, “Sa mga hindi pa po nagbabayad, kung maaari lamang ay magbayad na (To those who haven’t paid their fare, please pay now).”
Since he was hemmed in by passengers, he could not track who had paid and who had not paid their fare. There were some passengers who got on and off the bus without paying, just like the two men who were standing next to me. May God bless their conscience. And may He bless mine, too, for like them, I did not pay the fare.
It was not until I started walking toward the train station that I realized that what I did was unbelievable and completely wrong. Why unbelievable? Because I never imagined myself doing something like that. I hate thieves, cheaters and everyone who does crooked things. And here I was doing the same thing, and making me one of them. That simple act of dishonesty made me one of the people I abhor.
As I was going up to the LRT station, my disgust continued to grow. I began formulating reasons for my own defense: I was just not myself at that very moment; what I did was only fair because I was standing the whole time; the heaving passengers made it impossible for me to reach for my coin purse inside my bag. I kept trying to make up many reasons, but all of them were unsound and invalid.
I found it hard to accept that such act made me no different from candidates for public office who steal votes and cheat their way to their positions. And then when they get what they want, they keep on cheating the people by acting as if they are serving them when in fact they are just serving their own interests.
Just like what I did: I had gotten off the bus acting coolly and walked away like someone who had paid his fare. That was clear proof that I was a cheater.
I was still trying hard to justify my dirty little act, when a train stopped. As I went in, I told myself “All right, I give up.” Then I acknowledged to myself that it was all my fault. I was unfair. I had stolen from somebody. I had cheated. I had not given the driver and the conductor what I ought to and what they deserved.
I fervently hope our politicians will feel the same: that they will realize and admit their faults and give the people what is their due. I pray that they will not put into their pockets what they do not own, and that they will not steal votes for that is like stealing people’s souls, which is far worse than stealing their money.
As I got off the train, I promised never to repeat what I had done. That single act of dishonesty compromised my integrity and diminished my self-respect, and I do not want to lose them all.

Natalie Pardo, 20, is a BA Communication Arts graduate of the University of the Philippine Los Baños and works as an executive assistant in a gaming company.
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