Economists cautiously investigate a very specific karaoke ballad

CALOOCAN – A jeepney driver’s habit of playing the same emotionally devastating ballad on repeat during his morning route has become an unlikely subject of local economic discussion, after several regular passengers reported arriving at work “too reflective to function” for at least the first hour of their shift.

Driver Boy Fernandez, who has operated the same route for eleven years, plays a rotating set of classic OPM love songs each morning, but riders say one particular ballad, played almost daily, has an outsized effect on the collective mood of the route. “By the third verse, the whole jeep goes quiet,” said regular passenger Jonalyn Rances, who works in a nearby call center. “Everyone’s just staring out the window thinking about their exes. It’s not even our exes specifically. It’s exes in general. The concept of exes.”

An Accidental Emotional Ritual

Fernandez said he has no particular strategy behind the playlist and simply plays what he personally enjoys during the long stretches of traffic. “I didn’t think about it like that,” he said, laughing when told his route had developed a reputation. “I just like the song. If people get quiet, maybe that means they’re actually listening for once, instead of on their phones the whole ride.”

Several passengers, however, say the effect is measurable in their own workdays. Call center supervisor Ronnie Baltazar, who oversees a team that rides Fernandez’s route each morning, said he has noticed a pattern of “unusually soft-spoken” staff arriving between 8 and 9 a.m. specifically on days the ballad plays. “I don’t have hard data,” Baltazar said. “But informally, yes, our first-hour metrics dip slightly on what my team has started calling ‘ballad mornings.’ I’ve thought about asking him to switch it up, but honestly, it’s a good song.”

Other Drivers Take Note

Word of Fernandez’s route has spread among nearby drivers, several of whom have reportedly started experimenting with their own signature playlists in hopes of building similar loyalty among regular riders. One competing driver on a parallel route has leaned the opposite direction, playing only upbeat dance tracks in what he describes as “an energy play,” while another has committed entirely to classic love songs from an earlier decade, betting on nostalgia over Fernandez’s more contemporary heartbreak anthems.

Fernandez, informed of the competition, seemed unbothered. “Everybody’s got their own style,” he said. “Mine just happens to make people cry a little before their first meeting of the day. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Sometimes you need to feel something before you can pretend you’re fine at work.” He added that he has started taking informal requests, mostly from regulars who slip him a folded note with a song title, a habit he says has turned the morning route into “half commute, half open mic, minus the mic.”

A Very Informal Study

A local university economics student, riding the route for an unrelated class project, ended up informally tracking the phenomenon over three weeks, noting a mild but consistent dip in passenger phone activity and conversation immediately following the song, followed by what she described as “a kind of collective sigh” as the jeepney approached its final stops. Her professor, shown the notes, called the observation “adorable, and also probably not publishable, but I appreciate the instinct.”

Fernandez, informed that his route had become the subject of amateur academic curiosity, said he was flattered but had no plans to change his selections. “If people want to feel something on the way to work, I don’t see the harm,” he said. “Life is already hard enough. Let them feel it in the jeepney, where at least I’m playing something good.”

The Economics of a Good Cry

Behavioral economists contacted for comment, none of whom had heard of the specific route before being asked, said the phenomenon, while anecdotal, fits a broader pattern where ambient emotional stimuli measurably affect short-term focus and mood regulation, a dynamic documented in workplace psychology research more broadly, if rarely tied specifically to a single jeepney playlist.

Coverage of Metro Manila commuting culture, including its many small daily rituals, has been tracked by outlets such as Manila Bulletin, which has previously profiled beloved jeepney drivers for reasons ranging from decoration to driving style, if not, until now, specifically for emotional impact.

No Plans to Change the Setlist

Rances, for her part, says she has made peace with the ballad mornings, and has even started looking forward to them in a strange way. “It’s like a free therapy session before work,” she said. “Expensive therapy, if you count the fare. But it works.” Baltazar, meanwhile, says he has stopped trying to fight the productivity dip and has instead started scheduling his team’s least urgent tasks for the first hour after ballad mornings, treating the collective mood as, in his words, “a known variable now, like rain.” He added that he has, against his own better judgment, started to like the song too, though he insists this is purely professional acclimation and not, as one teammate suggested, “Stockholm syndrome with a melody.”

Ongoing coverage of the route, and whatever song comes next, continues at bohiney.com.

Further dispatches from the humor desk: The Onion.

SOURCE: https://bohiney.com