First come, and not served

This morning was so cold and cloudy. I stood by the streetwalk in front of Setia Budi Building counting all the money I got left. I still haven’t got my paycheck and I am so broke. Twenty thousand, thirty … hmm … Enough for a cab.

So, I smugly ignored all the P20s passing by and decided to hail the first cab coming. Voila, a Blue Bird. Feeling as if I were a hot-shot young yuppie on his way to make millions, while actually I only had 35,000 rupiah in my wallet, I got inside and ordered the driver to take me to my office in Menara Kebon Sirih. It was usually an 8,000 rupiah ride.

As my cab approaching the lobby, a security guard stood at his usual post to open the door of every stopping car to drop their passengers. My office building has well-trained satpams who would greet you ‘good morning’ as they kindly open the door of your car, well in my case, my cab-of-the-day. Every time I got the luxury of taking a cab to office, they never fail to start my day feeling respected.

So, I unawarely expected the same thing as I was about to step out of the cab after paying Tjut Nyak Dhien bill to the driver. But alas, the door remained unopen. So I clicked the handle myself, stepped out and looked around to find the satpam. I found him opening the door of a car, a mercedes, behind my cab.

“Hey, I got here first!” I felt like yelling at the guy. I deserve to have my door opened before that mercedes guy! He was the one who supposed to open his own-1-billion-car’s-door! Where is your sense of customer service ethics, Mr. Satpam, Sir? You know, the ‘first come, first served’ jargon? Damn!

So, as the middle-aged-Indian guy coming out of the mercedes jubilantly stepped into the building carrying his 1-million-rupiah (or more?)-Samsonite-bag, a 30 something yo guy followed carrying his old backpack.

A prince and a pauper.

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