The “Free Rider” Seminar
The seminar at Suntec had been a long one—six hours of “synergy” and “digital transformation.” By the time 5:00 PM rolled around, my brain was fried. All I wanted was to get into a Grab, enjoy the air-con in silence, and head straight home.
As we were packing up, A approached me. We’re in the same department but not exactly “lunch kakis.” She knew we lived in the same general area—the North-East side—and she hit me with the question: “Eh, how you going back? Grab ah?”
When I nodded, she followed up immediately: “Can tompang?”
I was internally stunned. In my mind, tompang usually implies you’re already driving your own car and someone is hopping into a spare seat. But asking to tompang a private hire ride? That’s a different level. I stood there for a second, wondering if she meant we’d split the fare on the app, or if she’d PayLah! me later. But because she asked so casually, I didn’t know how to say no without sounding like a “miser,” so I just muttered, “Uh, okay lo.”
The ride was forty minutes of pure mental gymnastics. Every time the Grab hit a ERP gantry, I’d hear the beep and think, Is she going to acknowledge this? I kept my phone screen visible, hoping she’d see the $32.00 fare and offer a “Eh, let me pay half ah.”
Instead, she spent the ride scrolling TikTok and chatting about how tired she was. To her credit, she didn’t ask the driver to做 (do) a side-trip to her exact block; she just got off at the main road near my place and said, “Thanks ah! See you Monday!”
I reached my void deck feeling a deep sense of “sian.” It wasn’t just about the money—it was the principle.
I’m the kind of person who hates being a burden. Even if a colleague offers me a lift in their own car, I usually decline because I don’t want to trouble people. My philosophy has always been: Do not do to others what you don’t want them to do to you.
When I vented to my family, the house was divided. My sister agreed, saying A was totally “buay paiseh” (thick-skinned). “If you want to join a Grab, you offer to split. It’s basic manners,” she said. But my brother rolled his eyes and called me “calculation-king.” His logic? “The car was going there anyway, you were paying the same price regardless. Why so stingy?”
But to me, it’s not about the “extra” cost. It’s about the fact that the ride was coming out of my own pocket—not a company claim. If I’m paying for a premium service to have some peace and quiet, why should someone else get a free ride on my “ticket” without even an offer to top up?
My Take: You’re not being “calculative.”
In Singaporean culture, there’s a fine line between being a “neighborly colleague” and being taken advantage of. Here’s why your feelings are valid:
- The “Offer” vs. The “Ask”: If you had offered (“Hey, I’m Grabbing back to Sengkang, want to join?”), then it’s a gift. But when someone asks to join a paid service, the social contract usually implies a split.
- The “Wait-and-See” Stress: The worst part isn’t the money; it’s the mental energy you spent during the ride wondering if she’d offer. That “disgust” you felt is likely just a reaction to the lack of social awareness on her part.
- A “Paiseh” Scale: Most people would at least say, “Eh, let me PayLah you $10 for the ERP/effort.” Silence is what makes it feel like she’s “eating” your benefit.
The Verdict: You aren’t wrong, but next time, to save your own peace of mind, you can try the “The Preventive Strike”:
“Can, but the fare is quite heart-pain today, $35 leh! You okay to split?”
If they say no, then you have your answer!