I remember hearing The Man Who Can’t Be Moved years ago and thinking it was the ultimate hugot song.
A guy waiting on the same street corner for the girl who left him. Very dramatic. Very 2008. Now, fast forward to 2025, and we have a new version.
It plays in mall EV charging stations every weekend. It is called The Car That Can’t Be Moved. And the one waiting at the corner is not a broken-hearted man.
It is an EV stuck at the charging bay because the owner disappeared into the mall like a Pokémon.
Every EV driver knows this pain. You roll into the charging station, thinking life will be smooth. You plug in. You plan to grab a drink. Maybe a sandwich. You set your timer.
Then you see the bay is full. One car looks done. The charging light is off. The battery is probably at one hundred. Yet the owner is nowhere in sight. No note. No timer. No sense of urgency.
It waits there like it is camping, just as The Script described it. “Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I’m not gonna move”
People have started calling it charger hoarding. Some say it is worse than seat hogging in small restaurants.
At least with seats, you can stand and eat. With a charger, if you never intend to go inside the mall, you wait until your spirit leaves your body.
The worst part is when they finally return. They walk to the car slowly. They look relaxed. They act like nothing happened. They unplug the charger like they’re disarming a bomb.
I once saw an owner walk back while holding two milk teas and a shopping bag the size of a small child. The battery was full for 30 minutes. The line behind the car was long.
The other guy who’s also waiting was giving that polite half-smile Filipinos use when they want to scream but still have manners.
EV ownership in the Philippines is growing. The cars are fast. Quiet. Clean. But the etiquette is still catching up.
A charger is not a parking slot. It is not a campsite waiting for someone to whisper, “If one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me.” Spoiler alert. No one is.
Some malls are adding timers. Some are adding more chargers. That will help. But the bigger fix is simple. Finish charging. Move your car. That is it.
The EV community will love you. The non-EV drivers will stop calling you names. The parking attendant will thank you. And the queue will move like a normal queue.
When the day comes that people finally stop treating chargers like a place for retreat, we will celebrate.
In the meantime, every time I see a fully charged EV still glued to the bay, I hear that familiar line in my head.
“’Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me…”
It never works that way. The charger is not missing you. The security guard is not missing you. He is looking for you. The whole line behind you is definitely not missing you.
Despite the small frustration it causes, I have to laugh a little. Only in the Philippines can a charging bay turn into a love story.
And as I drive away to find another charging station, I can’t help but hum the chorus. It really is not moving.
“I’m not moving, I’m not moving.”
Yeah.