I was waiting at the terminal area, one sunny morning, when a young woman sat beside me. She was about 17, had dark brown skin, and doe eyed.
Not wanting to be disturbed, I plugged my earphones in and drowned the world out with Muse’s latest album, The Resistance. Just to be sure, I opened my copy of Time mag and started flipping through the pages.
The lady didn’t get it. A few minutes later she was tapping my shoulder, calling for my attention.
“Miss pwede ba magamit yung phone mo? May kailangan lang akong tawagan…”
What? I’m not that naive sister. I told her there were a lot of payphones around that she can use. This was NAIA terminal 3, not the mountains, for god’s sake.
“Importante lang po, di po kasi gumagana yung payphone…di pa kasi alam ng pamilya ko na darating ako…”
I looked at her, trying to gauge if she really needed help. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I asked for the number and offered to make the call for her instead.
She refused to give the phone number, saying she’d rather dial the number herself.
Spell fishy for me please? I am not that gullible. I told her I’m not comfortable letting other people use my phone. If she really needed help, she can approach customer service and ask for help.
The lady finally realized I wasn’t about to give her my phone so she stood up, said thanks and left.
Fast forward to a few days later, a similar story was on the news and the poor gal handed over not just one but two of her phones. Poor kid.
On most days I am a klutz (you can ask my friends…haha) but not when I’m traveling. Most of the time I leave the city alone and then meet my friends or contacts somewhere, and when I do, the paranoid in me takes over.
Possible cellphone snatcher/robber = 0. Tiara’s paranoia = 1.
I win this round.
