Brawler’s Knuckles and Hands that Know Their Place

by Esther Suson

This turned out to be a sort-of sequel to one of my previous posts. As my readers know, the majority of my recent posts have turned out to be about commuting in Metro Manila, but few of them are connected.

The fx I rode was exactly the same as the one in that previous post – I recognized it by the cut-glass-style crucifix on the center dashboard. Ending up in the front-and-center again was a joke on me, I will admit. There was already a passenger when I opened the door, but she got out so that I would go in first.

In very short order, it was more than clear that this was not the fx operator of the wandering pinkies. Both his hands were scarred white and pink over all eight knuckles of both hands, heavily enough that every knuckle-bone was fully covered by a scar.

After I finished noticing that, his driving style became, well, impossible to ignore. He hated driving slow; he zipped past slower cars, and overtook anyone nearing his speed. The car horn got very little rest the whole way. He muttered at other drivers and hit the steering wheel in traffic jams. Hardly the operator of Kindness and Generosity.

Ah, I thought. That explains the brawler’s knuckles.

Since I was front-and-center, all my lower-body proximity alerts were on. But rather than gripping the stickshift, he used only the tips of his pinky and fourth finger to pull it towards him so that he could change gear. From start to end of the trip, my proximity alerts never went off.

That being written, I will be more than relieved if all our public transportation shifts to automatic; where the lever is on the dash rather than the floor.

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