At the Precinct

A follow-up to my blog from 07 November... This happened 08 November, merely a day after the incident.

It was almost funny... almost. But then I needed to get something and not getting that piece of paper proved the whole hour and a half spent at that place futile.
I was a the precinct earlier today to get a copy of the police report which I needed to submit to my manager for documentation purposes. It was bad enough that the day didn't feel so bright and sunny as I had hoped it would be, as I felt the need to somehow perk up from the bad experience I had last week. I was held up at knife point along with 18 other individuals, including the driver and conductor, aboard a Don Mariano bus by four foul-smelling thugs. We all lost our hard-earned cash, some even lost mobile phones and other gadgets, and we were made to write our individual accounts of the incident on pieces of bond paper. It was my own account of the incident that I needed to get a copy of today, even better if I could get the report that the police had consolidated.
I reached the precinct at about 10:30 in the morning, having walked a few hundred hundred meters from my apartment. I felt my heart skip a bit as I entered the foyer of the two-story building as I walked into an ongoing commotion... well, two if you count the one at the holding area at the next room. I spoke with a middle-aged woman who told me to take a seat at the last table at the end of the room as they tried to pacify an elderly lady who was throwing hysterics at the first officer's desk fronting the foyer.
The atmosphere was heavy with all the drama, the screaming and shouting and the curses being exchanged from on side of the room to the other. I could hardly make out the words coming from everyone who, for some reason, had so much lung power that morning to be able to carry on their shouting match. At least an hour and a half passed by with my behind glued to my seat and my heart sinking with each passing minute. I felt how dry my throat had become as I finally swallowed and lifted myself off my seat to ask the officer standing closest to where I was. He didn't even budge and even pretended not to hear me. I approached another officer to ask if he could help me, and he said, "Mamaya na, miss, kasi yung in charge andun inaayos tong gulo... Kaninang madaling araw pa to eh." Moments later, a fist fought erupted among the men, including the woman who had been screaming tirelessly all morning. I had to move away to keep myself from getting hurt in the ruckus.
In the end, I decided to leave everyone be with their shouting matches and fist fights. I wasted nearly two hours wanting to simply get a copy of a police report.