A Day of Infamy
Corsarius: A Self-Proclaimed Jaded, Unfeeling Bastard. But still, this happened to me.
*****
It was supposed to be another humdrum day.
It all began with another boring commute to the university, aboard an FX taxi*. A half-hour spent on the road, listening to the radio, looking out of the window and seeing the stories of humanity unfold around me. Only my musings kept me company -- the driver was muttering a curse about traffic policemen, another passenger was humming absently, and to my left sat a young woman (I assumed she was young), all complete strangers.
I didn't bother to even give the girl a sideway glance. It isn't my nature to go staring at people, especially at women. I guess I'm a shy boy, your quintessential torpe; I sat there benumbed, unable to observe her from the corner of my eye, even if the sweet, hypnotizing scent of her perfume was all-too tempting.
Believe me, the only thing which kept me from going crazy right there in the FX was the thought that she: 1) wasn't a beautiful girl, 2) didn't have the soft, angelic, ivory features that accompany the stereotype of a "beautiful girl", 3) and if she was that pretty, she was a spiteful lady with demonic sneers that starkly contrasted her angelic face.
The FX taxi trudged along, and the girl went out of my mind, until --
"Sa tabi na lang po." The vehicle screeched to a halt, meters away from the escalator ascending to the Quezon Avenue MRT station.
It was her. She actually spoke! What. A. Sweet. Wonderful. Voice.
She shifted towards me. "Excuse me," she softly whispered. I suddenly realized that I was the jerk between her and the car door. I opened it, and got out to let her pass.
We came face to face with each other.
1) She was a beautiful girl. I WAS WRONG.
2) She had the soft, angelic, ivory features that made her a true stereotype of a "beautiful girl". I WAS WRONG.
Cross Items One and Two. Item Three was still a mystery. But I WILL BE RIGHT.
I stepped sideways to let her pass. She did likewise. We ended up face to face once more.
Repeat the above routine for fifteen damn seconds.
Unbelievable? Believe it. Surreal? It happened. Stuff of pulp fiction? I ended up like pulp, after this:
"Ah.." her voice trailed into uncertainty. Her lips started to curl into my great prediction -- a spiteful, demonic sneer. I waited for doomsday to smack down upon me.
She smiled. In stupefying, heavenly fashion. "I'm so sorry," she said in the sincerest tone you will ever hear.
Chuck Item Three into the waste bin. I WAS WRONG.
"Ah." It was all I could manage. She stepped sideways one last time, and walked away towards the direction of the train station.
*****
The FX taxi whizzed past the MRT escalator, even as I craned my neck in a futile attempt to see the stereotypical-girl-with-angelic-features-and-heavenly-smiles for one last time as she ascended into heaven, er, the station.
A day after, I'm still having trouble twisting my neck. The pain is unbearable.
February 2, 2005 is a day which shall live in infamy. Stupid day.
*FX taxi - a Toyota Tamaraw FX used as a public transport vehicle. Slowly taking over the streets of Metro Manila.
*****
It was supposed to be another humdrum day.
It all began with another boring commute to the university, aboard an FX taxi*. A half-hour spent on the road, listening to the radio, looking out of the window and seeing the stories of humanity unfold around me. Only my musings kept me company -- the driver was muttering a curse about traffic policemen, another passenger was humming absently, and to my left sat a young woman (I assumed she was young), all complete strangers.
I didn't bother to even give the girl a sideway glance. It isn't my nature to go staring at people, especially at women. I guess I'm a shy boy, your quintessential torpe; I sat there benumbed, unable to observe her from the corner of my eye, even if the sweet, hypnotizing scent of her perfume was all-too tempting.
Believe me, the only thing which kept me from going crazy right there in the FX was the thought that she: 1) wasn't a beautiful girl, 2) didn't have the soft, angelic, ivory features that accompany the stereotype of a "beautiful girl", 3) and if she was that pretty, she was a spiteful lady with demonic sneers that starkly contrasted her angelic face.
The FX taxi trudged along, and the girl went out of my mind, until --
"Sa tabi na lang po." The vehicle screeched to a halt, meters away from the escalator ascending to the Quezon Avenue MRT station.
It was her. She actually spoke! What. A. Sweet. Wonderful. Voice.
She shifted towards me. "Excuse me," she softly whispered. I suddenly realized that I was the jerk between her and the car door. I opened it, and got out to let her pass.
We came face to face with each other.
1) She was a beautiful girl. I WAS WRONG.
2) She had the soft, angelic, ivory features that made her a true stereotype of a "beautiful girl". I WAS WRONG.
Cross Items One and Two. Item Three was still a mystery. But I WILL BE RIGHT.
I stepped sideways to let her pass. She did likewise. We ended up face to face once more.
Repeat the above routine for fifteen damn seconds.
Unbelievable? Believe it. Surreal? It happened. Stuff of pulp fiction? I ended up like pulp, after this:
"Ah.." her voice trailed into uncertainty. Her lips started to curl into my great prediction -- a spiteful, demonic sneer. I waited for doomsday to smack down upon me.
She smiled. In stupefying, heavenly fashion. "I'm so sorry," she said in the sincerest tone you will ever hear.
Chuck Item Three into the waste bin. I WAS WRONG.
"Ah." It was all I could manage. She stepped sideways one last time, and walked away towards the direction of the train station.
*****
The FX taxi whizzed past the MRT escalator, even as I craned my neck in a futile attempt to see the stereotypical-girl-with-angelic-features-and-heavenly-smiles for one last time as she ascended into heaven, er, the station.
A day after, I'm still having trouble twisting my neck. The pain is unbearable.
February 2, 2005 is a day which shall live in infamy. Stupid day.
*FX taxi - a Toyota Tamaraw FX used as a public transport vehicle. Slowly taking over the streets of Metro Manila.
slipped from the pen of Corsarius at 11:00 PM
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9 Comments:
corsarius, dear, have you ever heard of that tired adage, carpe diem? i'm dying for you as i consider all the possibilities. infamy, indeed.
she's right. go, seize the day.
ahh... the one that got away? :(
you know i had the same experience in a jeepney once. maybe i'd write about it some other time.
i bet you're still thinking about her up to his minute.
hera
The lesson is -
Don't assume. :D
----
Someone told me the same FX story . She's my cousin. Just kiddin'! :p
to transience: well, this person likes to live by that credo, but all that crumbles when it comes to girls, haha.
to hera: well, kind of, but after writing this post her image on my mind is slowly fading into a blank face..hayy. anyways, i'd like to read your own experience :p
to jonas: loko-loko! :D nyehehe.
to tweety: talaga? 'legal' mang-ogle ng babae when you're commuting? di ko kasi talaga ugali yun. i don't want to take the risk of causing discomfort to any woman, you know -- even at the price of having days of infamy, hehe.
to ia: er, can't seize a day which is already history. in the future, maybe. maybe. hehe. (ei, ia-chan, you're not angry at me anymore, ne?)
c-chan: iie, anata wa baka! (like that japanese was grammatically correct...) i just realized you keep track of infamous dates. selectively that is.
ang corny ng mga torpe! (bwahahahaha. bad experience.)
tweety: define 'bastusin'... minsan di nakakarating sa tao pero maraming nagagawa ang utak hindi ba?
jonas: of course!
hera: nope, that wasn't the one that got away. :P
ahahaha...ia's now answering for me? well, you've earned the right to do so..i think. [wink]
to ia:
corny ang mga torpe. yeba!
i'm not torpe.
but corsarius and i had common experiences.
it doesn't really matter
if you are torpe or not.
what matters more if
someone is pakipot or... whatever.
itaas natin mga bro! :p
to jonas: gimme a bottle of san miguel (san mig light or not, it matters not) so I can really lift it high! taas mo, tol! hahaha.
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