I was momentarily entranced by its silvery sheen. It was three inches long, an inch wide with a jagged edge along one side. The tip was relatively dull but sharp enough for its purpose. I have seen such things many times in the market, at 168 and in malls. I always find myself admiring them from afar and tempted to get one myself, but I always pondered what I was ever going to do with a freaking switchblade.
The said moment had passed. Time continued its pace. The harsh reality came crashing like a tide hitting a tall wretched cliff, and I was smack-dab in the middle of it. Reality gave me two choices that day: surrender my stuff or feel the fury of a three-inch stainless steel knife.
Probably most of you, I would hope, would never experience being robbed at knife-point. And if you have, most of you would probably say So what?! We had worse cases!.
And you probably did suffer worse cases than I. You could have lost your cellphones, laptops, or a wallet, or you could have went home scarred and bleeding.
I was lucky enough to end the day with a minor trauma and the ridicule of my peers.
So let me begin my story:
A friend gave me a ride to a place where I could ride a jeepney home. As soon as I was dropped off, I spotted a jeep heading towards my destination. The jeepney was relatively empty, and as soon as it stopped I rode in the front. After years of riding jeeps, I have never dreamt that bad things would ever happen to anyone I know, much more so to me in a jeep.
I was in complete disarray when a stranger sat beside me, grabbed my leg and pulled out a knife.
Maybe it was a random hold up, or maybe they said, “Hey! A Chinese guy! Bet he’s loaded!” Nevertheless, they tried to rob me. Naturally, the logical side of my brain said, “Give him all your sh** and save you’re sorry a**!,” as was considered a norm in a robbery. Basic instinct kicked in and begged to differ; it said, “No Way in Hell am I Gonna Lose my Stuff Again.” It was fight or flight, live or die, get scolded for losing two good phones in less than six months, or bleed and probably find myself dead. Much to say, I found death more appealing.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was a complete indecision between self-preservation and property security. I tried to clear and relax my mind. I took a deep breath, and then another, and several more after.
It was not my intention to hyperventilate in that desperate situation, not was it my intention to look like I could not understand the phrase “Akin na yang cellphone mo o sasaksakin kita,” but thank God for the easily confounded robbers and a fairly fast jeepney driver.
They probably thought I was having an asthma attack; they asked the jeepney driver to reduce the speed, and went down before we reached the police checkpoint. Prior to their departure, his accomplice (who sat at the back robbing one passenger there) apologized in English, and left.
The driver said I was brave, the other passenger said I was smart, my brain said I was retarded, and my friends just dropped down on the floor laughing and said only I could make a robber apologize for being robbed.
It was not the terror of death that scared me the most in this ordeal, but the terror of indecision. The sudden halt of thought and logic scared me the most. I thought, what would I do if such an occurrence falls onto my lap, where other people’s lives would be at stake? I would cease to function, a stale mate in the midst of battle. I would be useless when push comes to shove, undependable, and unreliable.
I realized that in failing to step forward with our decisions and in remaining passive and docile, we risk not only depriving ourselves of choices; we also risk becoming useless to everyone.
There is of course a real lesson to be had here. Fake a medical condition to escape fatal harm. Humanity is naturally good as depicted by the apologetic robber. Chinese guys may have higher probabilities of getting robbed. Bring safety devices like mace, Taser, or rape whistle. Whatever the real lesson may be, I am happy that I got out unharmed, and am pleased to find people deriving pleasure from my misery.
