Sketches

1. On the bus yesterday, an old man in a khaki suit sat beside me with a single, giant peacock feather. I was dying to ask him what it was for, but:

a) You cannot possibly engage in a coherent conversation while the bus is in motion. The engine is noisy and you might miss your stop.

b) He looked really tired and I might get shot by a crank attack.

c) I really just wanted to know what it was for but if I asked him, he might think I wanted a real question-and-answer-and-comment-and-all-over-again exchange. I didn't feel like it yesterday.

2. I have a cute busmate. He's an old old man who always wears a black suit, a bowler hat and a tie. His pants are always too short for him and he takes his dear sweet time when he walks. Like the cars and trucks didn't exist. It's hilarious. We both go to Barnes and Noble and there's a fairly big intersection and as soon as the "Walk" symbol goes on, I immediately break into a canter. Sometimes I gallop through it but this charming man? He would walk leisurely and turn to look at the cars all lined up like a battalion, ready to charge at the green light. So cute. Apparently, he plays chess everyday in Barnes and Noble. That's what another guy told me while we were crossing the street. A chess group with old men in suits. Be still, my heart.

3. When I was going to take the bus for the first time, my heart was beating so fast, and I was so harassed while waiting. I kept fingering my dollar and a quarter: putting the money in my pocket and taking it out again. Putting in pocket. Taking out. Finally, after what seemed like a century, I saw the bus from a distance. I stood up and all but jumped around to get the driver's attention. The minute the doors spit open, I clambered up and handed the driver my money:

"Can you tell me when it's at the Hazinghurst stop? I've never taken this bus before. Thanks."

-blank stare forward-

"Uh, here! My money!"

"I can't touch that," while pointing to a sign that said that indeed, he couldn't touch the money, and I can't talk to him too much. At this point, he decided he had had enough waiting for me so he got the bus moving. I was so embarrassed. Luckily, the people didn't give a fuck about me so they merely continued to stare out the window, make out, etc. I bit my nails.

Yun pala, it was HAYVENHURST. Not Hazinghurst. Yay, me.

I'm a better bus rider now, although I still get mini panic attacks waiting for it. At 4:30, I wash my hands. At 4:45, I start getting out my money and putting the exact change on the front pocket of my bag, if I don't have a pocket. At 4:53, I start walking to the bus stop and sitting down beside the Bewitched poster in front of KFC. Sometimes I can read, if I can ignore the fast cars and the occasional hooting. When the bus comes I sit in the chair nearest to the door. Those seats are primarily for the old and disabled people but if there aren't any, or the bus isn't full, it's okay. I always try counting how many stops it takes till it gets to mine but drivers always have their own routines. Sometimes they announce every stop and sometimes, they just wait for the cord to be pulled. Of course, I prefer the former.

Anyway, I don't know why I get an adrenaline rush every time I wait for the bus (and even when I'm on it) but I enjoy it. As long as nobody who stinks sits next to me.

Today is Clara's (BJ's niece) birthday. Happy birthday, baby! You're great to be with but please, no more scooping out your poop for me to smell. If your ninong still likes me enough to get married in the future, then I'll be your ninang. Won't that be great?

It's also my niece Kaya's birthday. Before she turned one, she could already talk, sing, and say "painting!" when she wanted to look at paintings. Genius baby, please be good to your mom! And tell ninong Franco to get you a gift.