From presidents to cabdrivers

It was the cocktail party to end all cocktail parties, and for once NOT a trace of the fashionista, party hopping, 'it' girls and 'it' boys, posing-by-the-logo-wall and smiling-for-Alex kind of crowd, ... JUST the likes of - ahem - President GMA and her cabinet members, senators and congressmen, the diplomatic corp, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court along with a tropa of judges and justices galore, former presidents Cory Aquino, Fidel Ramos, and a host of others, if you get the drift... I was at my poise-est best of course although I must say alighting from a dilapidated taxi cab onto the red carpet amidst the flash of a hundred million bulbs was a wee bit off. You see my car, true to form, made tirik YET AGAIN last Friday and had to be towed from Makati all the way to the shop in Mandaluyong. But that is another story for another blog entry. Yesterday, Saturday, having no other alternative, I had to hail a cab to take me in all my cocktail dress finery to the heart of Intramuros where the 108th anniversary of Manila Bulletin was being celebrated.

And so the evening wore on as I exchanged pleasantries with this refreshingly different sort of crowd, the geriatric society looking men, and the women who called me "hija"... Some of them were judges, some were deans of colleges from notable universities, some were the chapter presidents of this and that association, having retired from their real jobs decades ago . "HIJA"!!!?? It's been AGES since anybody called me that .. me... this forty plus (as in plus plus plus) matronly me... suddenly felt young again when the lady from the Board of Regents of Chaing Kai Shek College turned to me and asked in a very soft motherly manner "And what do you do, hija?" When I mentioned the Rustan's group, she and the rest started reminiscing about the San Marcelino days!

Highlight of my evening - Joel Ontong (a young gay fashion stylist, my favorite person in all of Bulletin) and I had a blast posing for photo-ops with President Ramos - one on each side, we linked our arms thru his, and then the three of us made a thumbs up sign, as Joel and I posed nangangampanya style. Of course we were more demure with Senator Mar Roxas who we found so handsome especially when he extended his hand and in his deep guapo voice said "Hi! I'm Mar."
I died.

Going home. Problem number 1: I had to hail a cab from SOMEWHERE. Number 2: Those guys at the lobby couldn't help me because Pres. Arroyo's car was still parked at the driveway and taxicabs were absolutely OFFLIMITS in the area. (This was at Muralla cor. Recoletos Street, way inside Intramuros. The Bulletin office. ) Number 3: My feet were killing me after standing for two hours in four inch heels, and no way was I going to walk to 'doon sa rotunda' where they said I could easily grab a cab.

Well, prayers ALWAYS work, and before I knew it, I had actually struck up a conversation with two kindhearted guests who happened to be going home to Quezon City. They dropped me off at the very busy corner of Timog Avenue and Quezon Boulevard. So there I was, standing all alone on this busy intersection in my spaghetti strap evening dress and high heels, waving frantically at cab drivers on a Saturday night...

From presidents to cab drivers...what an exciting life!

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