Another Bowl of Soup

Let’s face it… There is nothing more interesting in this world to talk about than… well sige, let’s give it a try muna, shall we?


Let’s start with work…

What can I say? Everything is quite good. Let’s be specific and discuss work in a more specific way. What can be more specific than to go metrics?
I’m on my fifth month and one last month after this and I will know if I get tenured or not. The month of December was the last month for being on transition, which leave January to March as the month for probationary status. Sad to say, I did not quite pass my scorecard for December, but, then again, none of us in the team did. At least I got an almost 2.75 score. The results for January are still pending, and that, is my first month score card as a probi-agent. The score cards are divided into major metrics with corresponding weights in points. A total of 85 points are up for grabs. My unofficial standings are as such:


Customer Satisfaction: Not only our team, but the whole site as well, suffers from this. I think I failed this metric. Very arbitrary so to speak, as one could get a score of 10 as an agent but get a final fail total if the client thinks otherwise of the whole department or the whole bank in sum total. I got a survey with all 10’s but got a final score of 2 just because the client did not agree to bank policies. Oh well… Moving on

Quality Score: With flying colors, shall I say? This is a score given by the team lead after monitoring calls from the agent. Out of a possible 120 points I got 105. So I guess I passed this metric.

Compliance: This is another arbitrary item. The compliance team in the US monitors from 0 to infinity number of calls per cut-off, and I only got one monitored call for compliance and unfortunately, it was a high-risk, so I failed this too.

Sales Points: I should say I passed this metric since my sales point was at 190% of the goal in the first cut-off and though the final cut-off score is still in the wings due to a site-wide recalculation, I would peg my final cut-off score at 120% of the goal, give or take, so I guess this is a pass.

Adherence: This includes AHT and attendance. With AHT, I was a bit high for my curve at 370+ from the 260+ goal, but my attendance was no problem, although there were two days that I got unplanned absences that I promptly applied Sick Leaves for upon my return with proper medical certificates, I would say this one is a fail, for worst case scenario computations.

Professionalism: In my last score card, my team lead gave me a passing 3 out of 5. I believe that my performance has greatly increased and all my Action Plans have been met so I guess this will either be a pass 3 or an improvement 4 for January.

And the bottom line: I do not really know, it is all really up in the air. I hope to pass but if not, well, I gave it my best, and I am looking forward to the prime pay this pay day, and that’s that for the moment.

WAS THAT FUN? Hmmm… Nah, let’s try something else…


Friends and personal life:

Where to start? I guess work has basically cut out what my days would be. I get up a 9 am, prepare myself breakfast, which would usually be a cup of coffee, some cereals or oats, then prepare my stuff for work. Get showered, get dressed, grab a jeep, grab an MRT, and punch in. After shift, it’s either a smoke or two, drop by a coffee shop, if and when I feel like it, grab dinner to go on the way, then, take a quick shower, eat dinner slumped in front of the TV watching DVD’s or check my mails, blog hop, or write poems, when the fancy strikes, then read a chapter or two of this Andrew Greeley novel that I belabor but committed to finish. Basically that’s what a typical day would go like.

Of course there are petty distractions. A good text session with one or two persons, whom, I know, won’t go anywhere. I know me. I can not have a ‘textual’ relationship. Well… what else? The MRT rides, oh well… Hehehehe…

You know what I mean. There are those mornings with meaningless strangers in the MRT. The quick little bumps and grinds I would get - the silly nudge and brushes, and of course, the more brazen ones who would cop a feel of my morning woody, or blow hot puffs on my neck. Well…

Oh and of course Charmita and her gloom and doom office story of how heads are rolling because the account is downsizing. From the get-go, once I learned she would not be among those who would get kicked out, the story just got boring and I do not really give a hoot with everyone’s tale of woe as long as she is secure, that’s all I care to know.

And then the rest days - I would get off Saturday evening, head over to a nearby Starbucks branch and have my celebratory mug for a week well spent, walk awhile in the gimmick spot, and then head back home for some glorious sleep. Lately, I do not relish going out on rest days. A quick look at my bank account tells me this should be the rule. I am saving up for my Vacation Leave to go back to Iloilo, so I bid goodbye to my vagabond shoes for the moment. Rest days, therefore are bonding days with my pillows and thin foam on the floor.

Friends? They are busy with some things else, and are a source of disappointment for meet ups recently. I know. Life gets in the way, so, no plans, no disappointments, right?

On other endeavors, I have decided to take up Masters in UP Open University. I know the deadline for first semester applications would be end of February, but I am still waiting for my papers from Iloilo, so I guess that’s that for now.

As for the writing, I am also waiting for the launch of the coffee table book, and an informal invitation to go to Baguio and read a few of my poems for the Writers Night during the Panagbenga Festival, but I am not so hopeful about it either.



Idle hands they say are the devils work shop, but then, I have basically kept my hands to myself. I chuckle at bubbly co-workers ranting about their having too little time for everything. What tops the charts off of course is the impending commercialized sway of this one day of licensed debauchery and unparalleled cheesy cheesecake saccharine overload romantic hullabaloo… IZTAP IN THE NEYM OF LOURVE! The Balenstayms day! It is such a blessing/curse that the day falls on a rest day, and for the rest of the populace in my team, it’s a sign from the heavens to pick up the pace and beat the deadline. Some are overcome by the mania, and not a few people have resolved to ask someone else out, or, out of the blue, become emboldened and finally pop the question ‘Tayo na ba?’ Oh well…

My plans exactly? If only I had any decent cooking utensils, I plan to cook me my legendary pasta dish, make a quick blueberry cheesecake, brew some caffeinated potion, grab a good ‘end of the world cataclysmic’ movie, and have me a dine-in valentines night. And the sex, you ask… well… “Hi wer u? D Lst tym was swell, ker 4 a re-run?” Or maybe a quick “Ei, changed my mind abt not fckng around n luking for sumting serious, is ur offer still valid?” Or maybe “Hi, I’m reconsidering that 3sum, but just to be clear, I’m top. Directions please.” Ahmmmm….Nah… This explains why my cellphone bills suddenly dropped by 30 percent. I do not reply anymore, nor do I send wala lang texts. I’m tempted to buy a big wash basin, some detergent and fabric conditioner, then do the laundry. I know it would save Laundromat expenses, but, in this apartment, where to hang the laundry? More importantly, ironing eats up electricity and it would be such pains, so, No.


Therefore… as it looks, Valentines Day will be nothing more than just another day. By the way, Pope Paul VI had decreed in Paschalia Mysterii that St. Valentine, the supposed patron of Valentine's Day has been stricken out of the list of Catholic saints, along with St. Nicholas (Santa Claus) Saint Christopher (The Safety Medallion Patron) Saint Patrick (The Dragon Slayer) Saint Catherine of Alexandria (The Virgin and Martyr) simply because there is no proof as to their existence. Therefore, Saint Valentine's Day is non-existent! Bitterness much? This year, I will not sweat it. Not even an excuse that “I’m having a date. A date with the Lord.” Another day, another bowl of soup. Unless…

Photo Credits:

http://sugarloaded.com/tag/la-paz-batchoy-recipe/
https://www.mriwm.com/ProjectSites/Learn%20SharePoint/MRIWiki/Wiki%20Pages/Home.aspx
http://roseykrh.blogspot.com/2008/07/poetry.html
http://www.indiana.edu/~rotc/prospective/curriculum.php
http://chasingmyhat.wordpress.com/page/2/

The Big Crash and Manic Mondays

The Big Crash

Here’s a pre-valentine post. I am all gushy and shitty as I type this entry. This is about the big crash. My big kahuna! Let’s just call him Dokie Oinkie.

We met at a Grand Eyeball Party of a certain channel in the mirc way way way back forever. Even though I was based in Iloilo, I was a regular and later on became an operator for the channel. When a Grand Eyeball was organized, I sailed off to the City of Man. I was supposed to be seeing someone that night. He was supposed to see someone else too, but the evening got the better of the both of us, and the attraction was undeniably palpable, he ended up flirting with me, emboldened by alcohol. We ended up kissing and he ended up dragging me to the rooftop of the place, ended up sucking me there and then. It was carnal emotions!

From there, we would meet up, while I was in Manila. Being the young gullible and promdi guy I was, he would pick me up, and we would go wherever, kissing and necking all the way. When finally he took me home one night, it was pure bliss. It is etched in my memory. I still remember the checkered bed sheet, four pillows, one long bolster pillow, blue electric fan, large digital alarm clock, and his smack gown neatly hanged in one corner. His kisses set me on fire, and the world is one blur of passion singeing our very souls. The only thing he did not allow me to do is to penetrate him. He has this bull crap about denying entrance, by saying that the only time he would give it up, is at that time when it would mean forever. This – him and me: us. Yeah! Blah – but the next day would be the one singular moment that every other significant moment for me would be measured against. To this very day, it is as clear as sunlight, unaltered by time.

We had to grab a cab when morning came. He had to go to the hospital for his medical internship at that time and the folks back at where I was staying might be wondering where I was already. He asked the cab to drop him off in front of the emergency entrance of the hospital. Sige na nga. It was at Cardinal Santos. He then asked the driver to wait a bit and asked me to walk him to the entrance. I got off, and walked him towards the entrance. I do not mind being predisposed to PDA’s and would gladly oblige a quick peck goodbye but nothing prepared me for what happened next. Right there, in the middle of everything, in plain sight, and in broad daylight, he grabbed my shoulders, squeezed me closer to him, and gave me one long, hot, passionate kiss goodbye. The world melted into oblivion. Up to this very date, this remains the sweetest most romantic thing anyone ever did for me, rivaled only by an ex who wrote a whole song for me.

In the course of the next few months, my heart swell and fell with hope and desperation. He got back with his toxic significant other, whom he was on a cool-off period when we met. His partner abuses him physically, and the distance between us was a big factor for the eventual failure of what ever there was between us. There were talks of him moving somewhere closer to where I was but that never materialized, and there was even a time when the partner would badger me and call me, pestering me with irate messages. Sadly, I was fighting a one-sided battle.

Over the years, we would lose contact and manage to find our way back to each other by strikes of luck or pure coincidence. No matter how long the intervening years, we would still manage to find a way to get back in contact, either by him stumbling upon me, me stumbling upon him, or a fortuitous event that would bring us back together in contact. It feels like I have known him half of my life even though the total number of hours we spent together may even be just enough for a whole day and some spill over hours. All these years, every single reconnection felt as intense and as sizzling as the one before. It’s as if the years in between simply faded away with every scorching touches and soul rending kisses every time we reconnect. It feels like that Ashton Kutcher movie. A lot like love. All this time we still carried the torch for each other. The relationships we both had in between never made the feeling go away. I must admit that I had loved more than what I felt for him or could ever even imagine or come close to. I had bigger tsunamis, and all are but vanishing embers, but that flame for him never wavered. It still blazes strong. He remains to be my big kahuna and me, his big crash!

This last time, I must admit that one consuming thought I carried with me to Manila is the off chance of us meeting again under favorable circumstances. I did actively search for his number and left him messages in his YM even if he was mobile. The months passed me by, and the sinking feeling intensified. Maybe we ran out of luck this time – maybe the last time was really the last – maybe, as the song goes, there’d be no falling stars this time around. Not until today. We found each other once more.

I confirmed then that he still has this flame burning bright as well… It never went away. All this time I keep asking myself: If there is nothing to this, why would it simply not quit? Why would it still continue to haunt me? Why? Why for this very long is it still as vivid and alive as that first night when greater loves I had, given and received, are all but blurs? Why can’t we bring ourselves to accept that maybe, just maybe, this is home – that this is what’s meant to be? Why do we keep tempting fate and running our lucky draughts dry? He said I am someone he never had the strength to resist. I said I was also the one who was never enough for him to go for. I was always the other man, I said. I was always the better and finer man, he said. I was convenient I said. I was his big crash, he said. Once again, all these things come tumbling down, over and above my head, a dangerous tumultuous squall inside me.

If asked by people if we ever became us, I would answer no. It was never us. It was an affair. The reason is because, I never get back with my exes, not even remain friends with them. I cut clean with almost surgical precision and burn bridges – No somewhere down the road shit for me. At that, if it never was us, he never was an ex, and the rule does not apply to him. Inclusio unius est exclusio alterius. What is not included is excluded.

If asked by people if there was ever an ‘us’, he would say that there was never not an ‘us.’ There would always be an ‘us.’

And so it comes to this – MONDAY. As we both would have it, we would be meeting up on Monday. En route, we both said we missed each other at least three times, and the phone call we had ended in us trading ‘I Love You’s’ almost simultaneously. He made a promise. This time, he’s giving it up. The once denied entry is now a guarantee. NOW WHAT? Destiny beckons… perhaps… Monday!

SO There... Monday




But then again... Monday










NEVER CAME


Photo/Video Credits:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11hq1JnLGF8
http://wallpapers-free.co.uk/background/nature/ocean/wave-04-crashing-down/
http://dawn42.deviantart.com/art/four-seasons-wallpaper-44148606
http://geordierussell.instone.net/Jukebox/Jukebox-Pop80s.htm=

In A Book!

Well yes, happiness!


Your very own Batchoy Boi adds another title tome up his list of published works.

I could still remember that afternoon at the Panublion - Roxas City, Capiz museum when these two very agreeable 'gentlemen' came to seek help with materials they were collecting for a coffee table book on Ilonggo Style. Ronnie Alejandro (Rest in Peace dear) and Mike Santos sought the curator, my best bud Bryan Mari Argos. I was instantly summoned by his royal highness, being the Presiding Chairman for Literary Arts of the Capiz Council for Culture and Arts, and official bestfriend slash save-my-ass-I'm-so-fucking-busy guy to give the visitors what they needed. After being rewarded by an afternoon of good talk and culture and Arts, these two fine gentlemen happened to be headed to Iloilo, where, in the same time frame, I was also set to be going back too.

We met in Iloilo, and I kinda tagged along with them in their research, and ended up writing a few articles that got included and found their way to the book. Well, not after agonizing wait and many road blocks, including Ronnie's passing away. I can not forget the term he used to describe me and Bryan, 'Culturati's'. He would say that "Capiz's culture and arts legacy is safe for the present generation in the hands of two very young, yet prolific, intelligent and very knowledgeable keepers of the heritage." It makes the heart swell, ya know! It was fun being with these bibliophiles and highly intelligent individuals, and did I say charming too?

As a proud Capiznon and Ilonggo, It felt great to be showing them around town and be rewarded by great interest, wide eyed wonder and unconcealed appreciation from these two. It was more a treat than an obligation. One can't help but overdo things with their reactions.

Finally, after so many years of waiting, the book is hitting the shelves. So much time went by that one other individual also instrumental for the materials in the book also passed away already - The late but great Zaphiro Ledesma.

By some mistake, my copy was sen back to Roxas, even though I'm already Manila based, but a few more months waiting won't hurt. Except of course the jittines when people text to congratulate me before I have even seen the book and the articles myself.

Anyhoot, do grab a copy if you can. Ilonggo or not, it is one good coffee table book filled with pictures, anecdotes and cultural tidbits for the 'culturati's' in you. Oh, and a little pride won't hurt. Text me, I'm willing to sign copies of the book for you... Well, at least the pages where my articles appear. Hehehehe!!!

Photo Credit:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mic_cal/4266334780/

Back With A Vengeance

Let's just say that when life gives you lemons...





Make Lemon Meringue Pie!

Dedma na sa Lemonade...


Unofficially, I'm back in the blogosphere for what seems to be a semi-permanent time!


let's just say, when life gave me lemons, meron namang nagbato ng tequila at iodized salt!

A team mate of mine let me borrow his Smart Bro for a lil while, but my lppie is still pupugak pugak and still outta sight for a replacement, but then again,Lemon Meringue Pie naman, not the whole Sans Rival or Black Forest cake di ba?

Sheeeshh andami ko na talagang backtrack, but dontchawori... Try natin waddle back sa nga blogs nyo... With a vengeance naman di ba!

So please, welcome the Batchoy Boi... na parang Batchoy Man na these days... hehehehe

AHLABIA All...

Blog Marathon Part 4 of 4

Now, what better way to cap off a four part blog marathon than with a piece of poetry. Merry Christmas Batchoy Denizen and Happy New Year too. Enjoy this dessert. Tah tah!

The Bar
By Luis Batchoy


The music is loud
Enough to drown out
Whatever it is that we
Have to say. The beat
Is the thing
The reason, the say.
Palpable enough
To cut through
Our loneliness.
The lights glimmer bright
So we can get blinded
By something other than
Our own fears;
To keep us lost,
Not to find our way.
Now the spirits flow
To drown out and intoxicate
What little spirits
We have left.
Tonight, it is overcrowded
With everyone’s
Emptiness.
And we rule against
Each other rubbing off
The cynicisms.
No one’s a stranger here
And no one has to know
Anyone. Companionable
Anonymity. With the music
The beat, the lights, the spirits
And sorrow, checked
At the doors, to be picked
And taken back home
Like a coat
Only when the night ends.

Photo Credits:
http://www.djjdee-mobiledisco.co.uk/images/disco.jpg

Blog Marathon Part 3 of 4

THE BAR

I have been dating in the Metro. Well, yes I do. I still manage to snag a few glances, a few gawks and a few smiles from across the bar. Charm tells me to quit it. She thinks I should stop seeing people I meet at a bar, online, or from the gym –the last one not being applicable even, because I do not even know what a gym is. Is it even edible, or does it go well with Worcestershire sauce or Kikoman? Now where am I supposed to meet them? Power books? At a tiangge in St. Francis Square? At an ukay ukay in Cubao? She said that there can not possibly be a serious guy/girl that I’d be meeting from these places, and if I do, I should not be expecting anything serious from these people, which was what I was gunning for. I know! Classic rules right? I understand that the point is not to go to a bar looking for a serious relationship. Well I do not! In fact I do not go anywhere looking for a serious relationship. I do not go to O bar to find someone to marry.

I have only one question about that rule though. If we are not to be able to meet someone serious from a bar, then what do you call me? I am decent. I am nice. I do want a serious relationship, and yes, I go to bars. Does that mean, then, that if you happen to meet me in a bar, struck a conversation with me, found me cute and hot, got interested in the possibilities with me; should it be taken against me and destroy both our chances just because we happened to have met in a bar? See my point? There must be someone decent out there, and I wouldn’t really mind meeting him or her in a bar as long as I do meet him or her, and soon too, please. Maybe that’s why we are conditioned to play around with people we meet in bars, thus becoming the undesirables ourselves, in our dealings with them as much as we put them down to be. We become the jerks and jerkettes to people whom we have met in a bar, just because, we are covered with the ready clause of ‘Well what did you expect? You met at a bar!’ I think that is convoluted. And just to remind you, Romeo met Juliet in a party; well some medieval equivalent of a bar, I guess. Anthony, I’m sure, met Cleopatra in one of those Roman Bacchanalian festivities, which sound like a party to me. I know! They are both tragic love pairs that ended in despair but they are great examples of that great one true love, met at not exactly your typical Sunday brunch. Then again, Cinderella met Charming in a royal shindig, too.



As for the me dating part, I have a question. Which lie would be more terrible? Someone saying ‘I have a boyfriend’ even when that is not true just because he/she is really not that into you, or someone saying ‘I do not have a boyfriend’ when in fact he does just because he/she really likes you despite the fact? Charm says, it’s the first lie, simply because he does not like you. I don’t get it, really. Why lie? As to the first one, we met through common friends of a friend’s friend. Keep in mind that I do have a very few friends here in Manila. He was nice, he was, well, OK looking, looks decent, good job, intelligent, good sense of humor, and, well, nice - except for the fact that he lied. He said he had a boyfriend. While I appreciate the fact that he did not want to hurt me with the truth that he is more interested in having a relationship with himself and making time to enjoy his own self and ‘me’ time, I do not understand the reason why he had to lie. As if I’m going to break down and mourn and lament the fact of his rejection. Like duh! I could just have said, well if that’s the case, then go buy yourself a journal for your own private relationship, a full length mirror, lots of lube and a dildo. I could have even given him tips on how to plan the perfect date with himself, without him knowing about the plans he made for himself. Sounds convoluted, right? But hey, any relationship is hard work. Even the one you have with yourself.

The second one is another classic. We met at a party. YJ was able to cajole me out of my hole and in his generosity, invited me to tag along and crash with his friends while they were having a party in a bar near where I live. Since the bar was near and I did not really have any plans for the night, I agreed. To make the long story short, I liked someone in his company, and to make it even shorter, we kissed in the men’s room. I was with Charmita that night, and what bothers me is that he kept on asking Charmita if I was single. If this was supposed to be just a random kissing spree with a stranger, well, cute stranger at least, then why all the ‘are you single’ questions? God, this one was a bit confused and confusing, I should say. He said he did not want people to see us kissing, so he pulled me into the elevator and went up and down the three floors almost twenty times. When the elevator doors opened and we got out to get back to the party inside, he grabbed me and kissed me passionately, while people were coming out of the bar, some of them, his fiends. WTF! He said something like ‘Please don’t fall in love with me.’ HUH? So I asked. Why? You have someone? I will keep that in mind. Then he lied. He said, ‘No. I’m single!’ I really did not plan to fall in love with him. Well, at least, not yet. I did want to see where this will lead us, though. How I found out the lie was when YJ texted me asking me to pretend that I did not know he has a boyfriend. He said the guy made him promise in the cab not to tell me that he has a boyfriend. Why? I did not have to pretend I did not know! I really did not know! Again I just do not get it. If he likes me and my kisses set him on fire, why lie? I could make a one time exception and give him a night of debauchery, you know. Just sex!

That is what I hate about the whole deal with both situations. If they really do not want to go serious, why lie? I am a man with an eye for a good deal. If they just wanna play around, I can be a better playmate if I am made aware of the rules, you know! Its not as if I am gonna throw myself on their feet and ask them to reconsider. Yes, I may be someone who wears his heart out on his sleeves but I am not the one to throw it down on the floor and ask them to please kindly step on it! One thing is for sure, I love myself. I may be someone who believes in love and that on true thing, but I am not stupid!


Now, Mr. Having a relationship with myself starts to ask me to go out for coffee dates and I’m wondering if that would not make himself jealous of him taking me out on a date. Mr. Elevator Action on the other hand, keeps giving me dropped calls, and when talking with me, does it ever so carefully as if making sure no one would hear him call me, and still texts my best friend with pathetic reasons why he can’t see me and continue the hot action that I am sure, left him with blue balls that night. I did ask him to come home with me, but they had drinking plans at their condo and it was too much for Charmita and I to tag along, you know. And as for me I went to Malate last Sunday, got picked up by a hot chubs who looks like a fattened up Akihiro Sato, slept over at his condo and while he was asleep, I got up for a pee, and got surprised by his house mate who was also a chub who looked a bit like Bong Revilla when he smiles and his eyes disappear. But at that moment, his eyes were nowhere from disappearing while he was checking out my pecker. I’m sure, it was the Sapphire hoop he was fascinated with, but when he pulled me to his bedroom, I knew that was not the case. It was dark in there. At breakfast, they kept beaming at each other with knowing smiles, and I did not want to wait out for an invitation for a threesome over desserts. As I was taking the cab home, I thought to myself: this is exactly why I do not like myself when I am single. I have officially become a harlot, and as another dropped call from Mr. Elevator Action and a text from Mr. Having a relationship with myself came, I prayed really hard for the one true thing, to please, come and find me, or be found by me real fast - even if it has to be in a bar where that would happen!

Photo Credits:
http://www.spitz.co.uk/images_press/Venue/VenueBar.JPG
http://www.jerrystocking.com/clustercalls/images/pinocchio1.gif
http://endtimepilgrim.org/harlot48.jpg

Blog Marathon 2 of 4

MINE

There it was, December 24, 2009, Christmas eve. My shift starts at 11AM and ends at 8PM. My housemate Charmita has work for the night and I am looking at a lonely Christmas Eve alone in the house, and had work the next day. At work, people were happily talking about what they would be doing, where they would be doing it, and well…with whom they would be doing it. I listened. Maybe it’s the SAD or Seasonal Afflictive Disorder, maybe it was the chill in the air, or maybe, it was just the plain sad truth… I was alone, and there is no one there. No friends, no family, no special someone to wish me a merry Christmas, not in any particular order.

When I got off work, I walked to nearby Robinson’s Galleria. I was picking out the gift I intended to give Charmita. It was the new Madonna album. Her and me, we are big Madonna fans, well, the 80’s Madonna to be exact. In fact, ‘our’ song is a Madonna song… Borderline… ‘Just try to understand, I’m giving it all I can, but you got the best of me...’ Even her daughter was named after a Madonna song. I might not be the father but I had naming rights. If it would be a boy, we would name him Uriel, in honor of my favorite archangel, the Fire of God. We were looking for a girl’s name if she would be a girl. We were lying down in my bed sharing earphones on Bryan’s Ipod and the song came on, and there it was… the name… Cherish!



So I went to Odyssey, and please people, trust me; avoid this store like the plague. I picked up the DVD’s for Charmita, and was about to pay. I asked the girl manning the counter if she can put it in a gift bag. You know how stores have gift bags instead of the usual plastic especially during gift giving season? The girl rudely said ‘Sir wala po eh, wala nang libre sa mundo ngayon’ (Sir there are none, and nothing is free in this world anymore). That was so insulting and rude! I have money, I was not asking for a freebie! I was just asking if they had gift bags to put the DVD’s in, just like every store! The comment was so uncalled for. I fought the urge to tell her, Eh kung sampalin kaya kita, libre yun! I calmly told her she was being rude and insulting and that is not exactly good customer service! Oh! Talk to me about customer service! I do it 8 hours daily for some of the most impossible people in the world, and fuck it was Christmas eve!


I asked for a manger, so I can log a complaint and what do you know, she was the store supervisor! I could not stand for this shabby service. I felt so bad I told her to apologize. She did in a very snickering way and it did not feel very sincere. She added, oh ayan, nagsorry na ako ha! WTF! ‘tangna! Paskong-pasko eh! I checked my wallet, purchased a lot more of stuff that my money would allow, paid for them, asked for an official receipt and let her bag my purchases. When all was done, I calmly pushed the bag back and said, ‘Now cancel everything! I am not buying anything from such a store with such a rude supervisor, and I am telling my friends, and if I had the time, the mall management too.’ I calmly walked out the store but I was very irritated. I went up to AstroVision, where I was treated better, and the staff heard out my story, and asked which girl I was referring to. Turns out, she does have quite a reputation for being such a bitch! Honestly, that is exactly why I support the local manong devede! Boss, ex? Scandal? If anyone from Odyssey or knows anyone from there is reading this, do yourselves a favor and fire that bitch! She is not good for the business, and she is a supervisor at that? What has the world come to? I am not asking to be treated like royalty, just respectfully. Even the manong devede or the ate’s in divisoria or baclaran have better customer service attitudes than her. Now I wasn’t only lonely, I was upset, too.

I came home, brewed coffee and prepared for a long lonely Christmas Eve. I changed, went to midnight mass, and felt lonelier by the minute. I thought of what I had back home. Can I say I miss my family and Christmases with them? If I were back home, there’d be a small feast with great food. In my apartment, there are only canned goods and a take out of two piece burger steak with extra gravy and extra rice. In Iloilo, there’d be a warm queen sized bed, some aromatherapy candles, an HDTV, a big Whirlpool ref stocked with goodies and that nice tub for a warm bubble bath. In my apartment, there’s only the TV I bought surplus from the pier, the surplus ref I also bought from the pier and the pirated DVD player I bought from there, not even totaling to eight thousand pesos. I had my thin foam, lying Tatami style on my cold floors, no closets, no shelves, and the small bathroom with a leaking shower cord. I’d be having my Christmas dinner in my loaned monobloc round table with four monobloc chairs which the last occupant left and did not intend to get, with Christmas place mats bought on sale from Megamall, and a bamboo plant centerpiece 50 pesos from Quiapo, placed on an empty cheezwiz bottle immersed in growing gelatinous beads thinggie bought from Baclaran at five pesos a pack.


In Iloilo I’d be driving my battered up car Cappuccino, for an after-family Christmas round up of brewed coffee or what not’s with friends, whoemever would be available, at wherever that remains open that night, while here in Manila, I had only season four DVD of sex and the city waiting to serve as my after dinner entertainment pleasure. I plopped down in front of my TV with a pillow I bought for a hundred a piece in Baclaran, pillow cases, 3 for a hundred, and started watching sex and the city, with my dinner on my lap, on crystal plates bought at Eunilane Kalayaan on sale 3 for a hundred. As I settled down for a long cold lonely night I sighed, and I realized one thing. I looked around the apartment. All of the things in here, I bought myself -.my own money, my own hard work; mine. And it made the big difference. Yes, I was lonely, but in Iloilo, I was lonely too. The difference is that, here in Manila, everything I have is mine; even my loneliness. I made my choice. I wanted this. This is my very own personal loneliness. Unlike in Iloilo, I was lonely there because of what other people did. They caused my loneliness. I am lonely because of them. Here in Manila, I find myself lonely, yes, on a Christmas Eve, but hey, I am lonely because of me. It was my own loneliness; MINE! I spooned off the burger steak, cutlery from Baclaran, 50 pesos for a dozen, smiled despite myself, and had me my very own personal lonely Christmas eve.
MINE!

Photo Credits:
http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2007/03/itsallmine.jpg
http://sfist.com/attachments/SFist_Brock/yousuck.jpg
http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/SATC-sex-and-the-city-36242_1024_768.jpg