Weird, I Tell You. And A Little Bit Funny.
I wasn't planning on making this post, because it's too weird, even for me. But, as a work friend of mine pointed out, it's kind of funny as well. So yeah. I'm telling you about my trip home yesterday.
Despite the rain, I decided that I would be more comfortable taking the cheaper commute home. I was thinking this on my way to the elevator. As the lift was going down, I realized two things: one, I really hate being small, especially when I'm surrounded by a forest of tall people; and two, I was the only girl there. This is not the first time it happened, but it was nevertheless weird. After that, I took the twenty-minute hike over to the MRT Ortigas station, bought the card, and barely got onto the train (it was on its way out). Catching my breath, I realized that I seemed to have wandered into a car full of men. Oh joy, I thought. The universe is throwing something in my face right now, and it's probably laughing its ass off. I naturally ignored the stares of fascination directed at me (I could practically hear their thoughts: "Oh look! A little girl with a cute lunchbox! Shouldn't she be in the car of the children and the womenfolk?"). I got off at Cubao, walked as quickly as I can (despite the fact that I'm having difficulty breathing, thanks to the bug my mom infected me with) to the jeepney station, paid the barker, and got on.
The first thing I noticed was that I was yet again a girl alone with men. Thankfully, most of them looked either too old to actually care or too young to be interested. I resigned myself to the fact that my entire trip home would be this weird.
Only, it got weirder.
The old man beside me took one look at me just as the jeepney started to move, and told me in all seriousness: "Hija, wag kang papatol sa mga lalake na ang pangalan ay Mark o Carlo, ha?" ("Young lady, don't give men named Mark or Carlo the time of day.")
I was like WHAT THE FUCK?! But he never spoke to me again. I was just left to sit there in uncomfortable silence wondering if the man was serious, senile, psychic, or just screwing with my mind. Or maybe the universe is screwing with my mind. Still, looking back, the entire thing was just strangely funny.
By the time I got off the jeepney at the corner of N. Domingo and Horseshoe, I decided that the rest of the walk to our condominium block ought to calm me down. It did.
Despite the rain, I decided that I would be more comfortable taking the cheaper commute home. I was thinking this on my way to the elevator. As the lift was going down, I realized two things: one, I really hate being small, especially when I'm surrounded by a forest of tall people; and two, I was the only girl there. This is not the first time it happened, but it was nevertheless weird. After that, I took the twenty-minute hike over to the MRT Ortigas station, bought the card, and barely got onto the train (it was on its way out). Catching my breath, I realized that I seemed to have wandered into a car full of men. Oh joy, I thought. The universe is throwing something in my face right now, and it's probably laughing its ass off. I naturally ignored the stares of fascination directed at me (I could practically hear their thoughts: "Oh look! A little girl with a cute lunchbox! Shouldn't she be in the car of the children and the womenfolk?"). I got off at Cubao, walked as quickly as I can (despite the fact that I'm having difficulty breathing, thanks to the bug my mom infected me with) to the jeepney station, paid the barker, and got on.
The first thing I noticed was that I was yet again a girl alone with men. Thankfully, most of them looked either too old to actually care or too young to be interested. I resigned myself to the fact that my entire trip home would be this weird.
Only, it got weirder.
The old man beside me took one look at me just as the jeepney started to move, and told me in all seriousness: "Hija, wag kang papatol sa mga lalake na ang pangalan ay Mark o Carlo, ha?" ("Young lady, don't give men named Mark or Carlo the time of day.")
I was like WHAT THE FUCK?! But he never spoke to me again. I was just left to sit there in uncomfortable silence wondering if the man was serious, senile, psychic, or just screwing with my mind. Or maybe the universe is screwing with my mind. Still, looking back, the entire thing was just strangely funny.
By the time I got off the jeepney at the corner of N. Domingo and Horseshoe, I decided that the rest of the walk to our condominium block ought to calm me down. It did.