It all began with Rhian Ramos. She was my first customer. She asked me to drive her to the One Fighting Championship event in MOA Arena on the condition that I be her date for the night. The idea was to raise awareness for this cause by turning up on the red carpet together where all the press were, which would naturally force the question, “so, who’s the dude? And are you here under your own free will? Blink twice for yes, once for no.”
But this gave me two problems. One, how do I explain this to my wife who is out of the country with our two younger kids. And second, how do I pull up in a Maserati as her chauffeur (which is part of the package and stunt) and walk down the red carpet together? Who would park the car?
So I had a brilliant idea. I called the man that I have stretched the friendship so much that he sometimes thinks we’re related, and asked him for a driver to tail me in another car so when I pull up, he can seamlessly jump in the driver’s seat and park it for me. It was the stuff of Hollywood. Plus, I get to kill two birds with one stone by asking my 14 year son to stay in the other car and then join us in the fight. I explained to Rhian that it was for my protection. From my wife.
Marc Soong has long forgotten how to say no, so he sent one of the company drivers over as requested. I don’t know the guy, but he’s obviously got the credentials to drive a car like this. So I save his number in my phone and tell him I’ll call him when I need him. It was perfect. Too perfect. Which makes it the perfect environment for Deakinitis to strike.
Knowing I had a driver to drive me home, I decided to loosen up and have a few drinks. It’s a fight after all, and our host was cool enough to give us a stack of drink chips. Thing is, they’re only good for Colt 45. Not for anything, but I didn’t realize that Colt 45 is a bit stronger than San Mig Light. So if you drink it matching the pace you would normally drink a light beer, well, several things can happen. One of them is not remembering to keep enough charge in your phone to call your driver.
So, fast forward to that awkward moment when I go to call or text him and realize that my phone is completely dead and I haven’t got a clue where the car is or how to get hold of him. It is also quite late. And my son’s phone is dead too.The trauma was so deep that in desperation, I stood up from my seat, faced the crowd and just yelled out really loudly “Who here knows Marc Soong??!!!” Amazingly enough, someone in the crowd did. It was Rovilson Fernandez.
So he calls Marc and hands me the phone. I start by saying, “Marc, don’t get mad. I know your car is safe. I just have no idea where it is. Could you call the driver and ask him to pick me up?”
How we still remain friends remains one of the motoring industries greatest mysteries.
