With Infinite Money I Can Do Everything

The sight of ten white taxis, moving in a deliberate (if slightly wobbly) convoy through the evening traffic of Quezon City, was unusual enough to turn heads. Drivers in adjacent lanes slowed down, peering curiously. Pedestrians pointed. Jun-Jun, lounging comfortably in the back seat of the lead taxi driven by Manong Ben, felt a sense of deep satisfaction. This felt orderly. Almost respectable.

"See, Manong Ben?" Jun-Jun remarked cheerfully, gesturing out the window. "Nice and smooth. Much better than that party bus."

Manong Ben, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a neatly combed salt-and-pepper hair, chuckled nervously. He kept glancing in his rearview mirror, seemingly counting the nine taxis dutifully following them. The P100,000 Jun-Jun had given him felt heavy in his shirt pocket, a surreal bonus for what was shaping up to be the strangest fare of his twenty-year career. "Opo, sir. Smooth naman po," (Yes, sir. It's smooth enough,) he agreed politely, expertly weaving through the moderately heavy traffic as they merged onto EDSA southbound.

Jun-Jun peered out the window as they passed familiar stretches of the highway near Ortigas Center. The towering buildings of the business district glittered against the darkening sky. He wondered if the 'Very Important Person' whose delay had inadvertently secured his police escort earlier was still stuck somewhere, or if they'd managed to escape the gridlock. He felt a brief, fleeting sense of responsibility, immediately followed by the comforting thought that whoever they were, they probably weren't enjoying halo-halo as good as the one he just had.

"So, Manong Ben," Jun-Jun began conversationally, "How's the taxi business these days? Competition tough with Grab and all?"

Manong Ben sighed. "Medyo mahirap po, sir. Kailangan magsipag talaga." (It's a bit difficult, sir. You really need to work hard.) "Pero blessing po itong biyahe niyo, sir. Malaking tulong po ito sa pamilya ko." (But this trip is a blessing, sir. This is a huge help for my family.) He glanced back gratefully.

"Good, good!" Jun-Jun beamed. "Hard work should be rewarded! Maybe you need an upgrade? This taxi looks reliable, but perhaps a bit basic? We could stop by a dealership? Or I could arrange some modifications? Neon underlights? A better sound system? Built-in halo-halo machine?"

Manong Ben laughed, unsure if Jun-Jun was serious. "Okay lang po ito, sir. Masinop naman po." (This is okay, sir. It's dependable.) "Pero salamat po sa offer." (But thank you for the offer.)

As they slowed in traffic approaching the Guadalupe bridge, sampaguita vendors threaded through the cars, tapping on windows. One young girl approached their taxi, holding up fragrant white garlands.

"Buy them all!" Jun-Jun instructed Manong Ben cheerfully before the girl even spoke. "And give her... hmm... five thousand pesos for the effort!"

Manong Ben, startled but obliging, rolled down his window, purchased the dozen or so garlands, and handed the bewildered girl the excessive payment Jun-Jun provided. The girl stared at the money, then back at the taxi with wide eyes before scurrying away, likely thinking she'd encountered a minor deity. The taxi immediately filled with the sweet scent of sampaguita.

"Lovely!" Jun-Jun declared, draping a garland over the rearview mirror. "Atmosphere!"

He glanced back through the rear window. Migs' taxi was directly behind them, followed faithfully by the other eight. He could see Migs' silhouette just sitting there, occasionally illuminated by passing headlights. Jun-Jun pulled out his phone and sent a text: "Enjoying the convoy? Need snacks? I can buy out the next 7-Eleven we pass."

Migs' reply was almost instantaneous: "NO. Just drive. Please. Just get home."

Jun-Jun chuckled and put the phone away. Migs had no sense of adventure.

The convoy maintained surprising cohesion. The other taxi drivers, clearly motivated by their unprecedented fare, stuck close, using their collective presence to politely (or sometimes assertively) discourage other vehicles from cutting into their formation. A couple of MMDA enforcers stationed near Buendia eyed the ten-taxi procession curiously but didn't intervene, perhaps assuming it was some sort of official delegation or just too weird to bother with.

As they crossed into Makati, the scenery changed. Sleek skyscrapers replaced the more varied architecture of Quezon City. The streets felt wider, cleaner. The Ayala Triangle gardens glowed invitingly.

"Almost home!" Jun-Jun announced. "Okay, Manong Ben, directions." He proceeded to guide the driver through the heart of the Makati Central Business District, towards one of the most exclusive residential areas – a high-security gated community lined with sprawling modern houses and lush greenery, a world away from the crowded streets they had just navigated.

The lead security guard at the village gate looked startled as the first taxi pulled up, followed by nine more identical vehicles. He approached Manong Ben's window cautiously.

"Yes, sir? Delivery po?" he inquired, eyeing the convoy warily.

"Resident!" Jun-Jun announced from the back seat, rolling down his window. "Juancho Dela Cruz. Just getting a ride home... with a few friends." He gestured vaguely at the taxis behind him.

The guard recognized the name – Jun-Jun's family was apparently well-known within the village. His expression shifted from suspicion to confused recognition. He checked his logbook. "Ah, yes, Mr. Dela Cruz. Welcome po." He still looked baffled by the ten taxis. "Uh... should I log all these vehicles, sir?"

"No need!" Jun-Jun said breezily. "They're just dropping me off! Very efficient service!" He handed the guard a P5,000 bill through the window. "For your vigilance! Keep up the good work!"

The guard took the money automatically, looking stunned. He quickly raised the barrier, allowing the entire ten-taxi convoy to proceed into the quiet, tree-lined streets of the exclusive village. The contrast between the noisy EDSA journey and the serene atmosphere inside the gates was stark.

"Just down here on the left, Manong Ben," Jun-Jun directed, pointing towards an imposing, ultra-modern house set back from the road behind a high wall and an elaborate gate.

Manong Ben pulled the lead taxi up to the gate. The other nine taxis lined up neatly behind him along the curb, engines idling. The journey, from the chaos of Cubao to the gates of this luxurious sanctuary, was complete.

Jun-Jun gathered his backpack (still reassuringly heavy) and the remaining sampaguita garlands. It was time to pay the piper – or in this case, the extremely well-compensated taxi drivers.