The episode from my life that I will relate now actually happened a few days ago, during the Chinese New Year. But before I get to that, let me share the story that made me think of it. This story was shared to me by my friend Chrissete earlier tonight. She said it was a cute story so I read it and sure enough, she was right! The story gave me goosebumps in the end.
A Winning Smile
When I was still teaching in the University of the Philippines Los Baños, I used to tell my students the story about how I met a stranger on a bus, as an example of an autobiographical report. Semester after semester, the reactions I got were always the same: kilig. Here goes:
It was a Monday night. I boarded an HM bus in Cubao after my evening class in UP Diliman. As usual, I took the window seat and stared at the carbon-monoxide laced window. Instead of pondering Metro Manila’s pollution, I recalled an incident that afternoon: I had reserved a copy of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s autobiography at a book sale in UP, but the staff sold it to somebody else, so I ran to the ladies’ room to cry (silly, I know). I smiled at the thought of this but quickly put on a straight face because I didn’t want to be seen smiling by myself. A guy sat beside me, but I hardly paid attention to him for I was still immersed in my thoughts on Gabo’s book and missed opportunities.
He asked whether that bus would be passing through Calamba. I found the question dumb because the Sta. Cruz signboard had “College” and “Calamba” on it, so I just nodded a little while still looking out of the window, sending the I’m-not-interested message across.
As the bus left the terminal and the conductor started collecting fares, I suddenly realized that I had no ticket. I strained my neck, looking for the conductor. The guy beside me said the conductor must have thought that we were traveling together because he gave him two tickets. I was about to raise hell but when I turned to look at him, I forgot about hell. He was so gwapo.
His eyelashes were longer than mine. His eyes were adorably big. Lips, pinkish. Nose, perfect. Complexion, smooth. And he smelled good.
Read the rest of the story here.
After I read the story I thought, awww, so cute! Wouldn’t it be nice to have an experience like that?
Then I suddenly realized, wait a minute, I could’ve had a story just like that indeed! But the only difference between her story and mine is that the guy who sat beside her was her type, while mine was not. And the lead male character, I realized, makes or breaks a story.
My story went like this. It was Chinese New Year, and even though it was a Singapore holiday, I had to work because we serve different countries and don’t follow local holidays. I’m okay with that arrangement, though, because we get vacation leaves in exchange and aside from that we also get free lunch and we could dress down, and I always grab these opportunities to wear shorts and flip-flops to the office.
I climbed into my usual bus and noted that it was practically empty. It was this emptiness, perhaps, that made it a lot easier for him to spot me; either that or the red tank top that I was wearing to celebrate CNY (red is the Chinese lucky color).
The moment I got in he said “hi.” He caught me off guard so I smiled, albeit tentatively, then proceeded to the back. He turned his head and asked if he could sit beside me. I wanted to say no, I hate small talk with strangers, but once again he caught me off guard, so I nodded, also tentatively.
He sat beside me and introduced himself, then asked me for my name. I could’ve written him off as just a friendly stranger if not for his overload of flattering comments with this as a clincher: “I know a lot of pretty Filipinas but you’re prettier than all of them.” Yeah, sure, as if!
He kept asking me if I’ve been to certain places and each time I said no, he said he’d bring me there. Then he asked for my number and once again he caught me off guard so I ended up giving it.
Now if he had been my type, this story would probably have ended the same way as that other article did. I would have gone to work giddy and immediately replied to his texts when they came instead of pretending to be a wrong number. I would have gladly answered his call instead of running across the room to get my guy friend to answer my phone so that he’d think I was a guy and stop bugging me.
And I realized that if you take all the cutest love stories that you know and replace them with a repulsive guy, you’ll end up saying “ewwww” instead of “awwww.”
Change the letter and the word takes on a whole new meaning. Change the guy, and the story does too.
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