Conspiracy theory

Despite my unwavering devotion to the money-blackhole called cabs, it is, to my utter devastation, an unrequited love on my part.

Oh woe is me!

Why do cabs hate me so?!

Not once, not thrice, but numerous occasions have seen me playing the spurned lover, left behind carelessly without a care and not worthy of any consideration. I can understand if such occasions took place on the unsavoury doorsteps of my former workplace, after all, the upstanding and morally righteous taxi drivers *coughs* of our fine and glorious island have to be on their guard against the unwaaaaanted advances coming from suspicious females from a dubious business that so happened to be situated at such an offensive location. Therefore it is in their best interest and for their safety that they should drive right past me.

Right. Wait while I gag a bit.

I still can’t believe that I’m getting ignored even in Tampines. Argh. There’s no chicken or ducks here, what are you blind uncles scared of?! And I’m by far the best-looking thing standing by the road, okay?

I hate getting ignored.



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