Benajmin, our cab driver, was agitated. I could have guessed it when he pulled up five minutes late. Because he is never late.

And when he announced, as we turned into the street, “I am sorry I am late. I cannot concentrate.”

Because his roommates — his ex-roommates — had just sprung an unpleasant surprise on him.

The guys who come here for service-industry jobs, for construction jobs … they don’t make much money. Well, they do make pretty good money in the context of their country of origin. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh. Or in the case of Benjamin, the Philippines.

That’s why they’re here. Because however much they make here … it puts them ahead of where they would be in a similar job back home.

To save money, many of these guys live in very small quarters. Some of them in what is called a “labor camp” south of the city. Musaffah is the name of the place.

There, they live six-to-a-room. Or, in Benjamin’s situation, apparently seven-to-a-room. Bunk beds, etc. It sounds, uh, a bit crowded. But if you work long, really long hours, and one or two of you works nights, maybe it’s not quite as jammed as it sounds.

Often, roommates come together on the basis of national origin. Benjamin was in a room with six other Filipino guys. I believe all of them taxi drivers for the same company for which Benjamin works.

It seems that the group had been together for a while. Till earlier this week, at the end of the month, when the other six announced to him … that they were moving out and into a private residence on Abu Dhabi Island. The six of them. Into a room in the city. Where they will pay more but have fewer rules to follow.

Benjamin said he asked them, “What about me?”

And he said they told them, “We have room only for six. Sorry Benji.”

He did not take it well.  He felt abandoned. And, interestingly (from a Western perspective) he also was worried about being lonely.

“When I came to work today, I had six roommates. When I go back tonight, I will have none.

“When I get back, I like to talk to someone about my day before I go to sleep. Now I go back and there is no one. Just me.”

So, he is trying to figure out what to do next. For the moment, nothing. He is alone in the room.

He knows someone else from the company will be assigned to his room. What he has heard is that his next batch of roommates will be from Syria. And they may all be fine fellows, but they won’t be able to sit around with Benjamin and talk about their hometowns in the Philippines, and Filipino food and pop culture and all the rest.

So, yes, living arrangements are important. Whether it’s a Briton living alone or a Filipino in a room with six countrymen — who one day abandon him. It can mess with your mind. To the point that you are five minutes late.