The point I am driving at is, there was nothing at all cute, or
regal, or remotely redeeming in what happened to me recently. Blogging about it makes me feel better, but I shall not go into detail. The images are there -- a warm evening...the Greenbelt bridgeway ...walking slower, slower.. seeing a post.. blacking out...a pair of shoes... and Robert Palomar, the owner of the shoes.The last time this happened to me was way back when I was 23... over two decades ago!!!... 3am, infront of Manila Manor, bent over a canal, with two gay friends helping me, and one shrieking that he/she actually saw eggshells (the eggshells were already in the canal to start with). As a result, I became the "Suka Shell Queen" of that little disco in Malate, and the gays loved it. Since then I have taken care never NEVER to place myself in a situation like that again.
This recent incident has yet to give me a similar title. No eggshells this time, and no gays, but the shoes have been irreparably damaged, as has the friendship with the owner. My friends, the ratwak gang of Mr. Q who else, laughed about it for three hours straight...I guess the crispy pata joke was getting stale, and we desperately needed something, anything, to laugh about again..the shallower the better... After a while, it seemed like it was the coolest and the funniest thing in the world to do the suka-on-the-shoe thing.
Now, with everyone sober and with the laughter gone, we all know that it's not. It definitely is NOT cool. The uncoolest, un-funniest thing in the whole wide universe has happened, and no way, no way, absolutely no way shall I ever be able to redeem myself-- my poise. my grace. my elan. -- the way Quiambao and Ms. America and Campbell did.
Looking at the brighter side though, things could have been worse - what i
f it were those leather seat covers and all of the BMW Z4's interiors.. you know, right into the aircon vent and all? I would not be alive today as shoe (and car) owner would have killed me. So...mustn't feel bad about the shoe thing. Or of the public spectacle in the middle of Greenbelt bridgeway. It was either that or the car. You can see at the height of my delirium I was still capable of making very wise split-second decisions!ANYWAY, by blogging this, I am acknowledging this shoe-kahan to have happened and I therefore give it my final blessing and remove it completely from everybody's memory... poof! it's gone!! Friday night (or was it Saturday morning?) never happened.
7 comments:
Poor Malu! It was not your fault. It was the fault of the person who ordered whatever it was that caused your gastronomic problem! And the shoes were in the way! Perhaps that friendship was not meant to survive a traumatic incident anyhow. Worse things have happened - like making wrong decisions that you'll regret the morning after. :)
- A friend (guess who)
yeah..decisions like - car instead of shoe. hahahaha. sa bagay, mas madali linisin yung leather. hey of course I know who you are.
It appears as though Malu has a new friend. Who can it be?
who me? hey mr. or ms. anonymous, I don't know who you are, but it's obvious you're not one of Mr. Q's rat rat pack or you would know the many twists and turns of this very funny story which has now evolved into an urban legend... No Malu does not have a new 'friend'... just a new reputation. hehe.
it's too funny, i had to look! your candor is adorable--this child-like attitude is what will make you forever youthful. Tell me about your next dating adventure:)
Of course Myrza! every gory detail pa nga as long as you promise not to publish in m.claire :)
Magoo! I almost died laughing. It's funnier in print! You truly have a knack for describing your life ... but why not SOL?
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