I am not in New York nor is this fall. As far as I know, I still am in Quezon City, stuck in the hot-morning-wet-afternoon season, and notably at the portal of a new school year.
I have talked about going back to school after a well-deserved vacation. I have gone on and on about how it is like going back to reality. “Stop it, Christine. You’re making me sick already,” I tell myself as I realize that I may be exaggerating things just a little bit.
Well, okay, enough of ranting about the resumption of classes.
One thing good about this time of year though is, yes, as Joe Fox said, that the air makes me want to buy school supplies. So, as any traditional Pinoy would, I headed off to National Bookstore to buy me some notebooks and pens.
I went in National Katipunan at around 6PM that day and, as expected, it was packed, so much so that I easily developed a bad mood. I was banging and bumping people’s shoulders to get them out of my way. Even the poor salesladies got a taste of my wrath. Good thing I had my earphones on. God knows what kind of back-stabbing, retaliatory comments I would’ve heard if I hadn’t.
With the two Corona notebooks, three gel pens, and one patent pissed-off look, eyebrows meeting each other and lips curled to a hostile frown, I went in line at the cashier. While the cashier was scanning the bar codes of my items, there were three things.
1. I took out my credit card because I didn’t have enough cash on me and was too lazy to visit an ATM
2. I took my earphones off so that I could hear whatever it was the cashier could probably tell me regarding my purchase
3. My ears being able to hear the free world again, I found myself in the middle of eavesdropping in a totally interesting conversation.
“Alam ko na kung ano ang gift mo sa’kin!” Said an effeminate-sounding male voice, “Isang ream ng Dunhill.”
“Isang ream ng Dunhill?” Asked the female voice the effeminate-sounding male voice was talking to, “Ano ka?”
“Oo, yun na lang ang birthday gift mo sa’kin. Isang ream…” Suddenly the effeminate-sounding male voice hesitates, “Ay wait, baka makita ng mama ko, hindi pa naman ako legal sa bahay.” The bitch, then, rambles on with, “Naku uuwi na nga pala Papa ko! I hate my dad!”
I didn’t hear nor see the female’s reaction to that, but I guess she was amused and agreeable to the proposal. “Isang ream? Hmmm... Sige, isang ream pero assorted…”
“Assorted? Sige…”
“Oo, assorted. Dunhill tsaka…Philip [Morris]!”
“Philip? Yuck!!” The bitch expresses his utmost disgust.
The female giggles as her CLASSY joke cashed in with her equally CLASSY effeminate friend.
“Marlboro na lang…” The effeminate-sounding male voice suggested. But, realizing the TACKINESS that was in his own suggestion, he comments, “[Marlboro?] Eeew. As in EEEW!”
I felt my right eyebrow raise itself.
At this point, these two voices were just that…voices. I didn’t know what they looked like as I never stole a glance…YET.
As Dunhill was APPARENTLY the Louis Vuitton of cigs, I expected the effeminate- sounding male voice to be a sophisticated-looking mestizo with plucked-thin eyebrows, a vest, and skinny jeans reeking of either Tim Yap or Rajo Laurel. As to his companion, I expected her to be a tall, skinny, rebonded-haired girl, with those hobo fashion ensembles. To put it simply, in my mind, these two were the kind of people who dress up like they're going to some club eventhough they're just heading off to buy school supplies. Those self-proclaimed fashionistas, if you know what I mean.Expectations high, I turned my head to see who these two characters were.
The then anonymous voices were reconciled with their corresponding faces. To put it kindly, I was disappointed. Talk about let-downs. The talk was simply too big for the faces. Even BIGGER than the girl.YOU? DUNHILL? Really? Are you freaking kidding me?
I looked away, signed the credit card receipt, grabbed my items, and stepped away.
That was one of the few times I left National pissed off and disappointed. Well, how could I not be?
It was bad enough that the place was jam-packed and the lines were long. Hearing the Dunhill conversation made it worse.
My god. How could a person who looks like this talk so condescendingly about an AFFORDABLE cig brand and so candidly about an unreasonably-priced cig? As if he was so used to basking in a pool of other unreasonably-priced things? Well, tell me. Does he strike you as someone who smokes Dunhill? I mean, if I saw this freak before I eavesdropped in their conversation, I would instantly think that he is someone who smokes, yes, but gets his supplies by “bumming” from his friends’ stock, because his Mama doesn’t give him an allowance hefty enough to have him afford even a stick of the cheapest cig in the market. Simply put, he is a smoker who looks like someone who can’t afford the habit. Talk about social climbing. Crap.
I don’t smoke so I wouldn’t know if there really is a difference in smoking different brands of cigs. But I think however smoother or more expensive a brand of smoke is, you can’t use it as a status symbol. If you look JOLOGS, no one will give a shit if you smoke tobacco leaves of gold. You are and will always be a cheap, social-climbing, wannabe to me.
To the Dunhill junkies, thanks for ruining my back-to-National trip. God forbid I see you there the next time I buy school supplies. Because if I do, there’s a big possibility na silaban ko kayong dalawa (I just might set the two of you on fire). Have you not ever seen the government warning on those packs and packs of Dunhills you buy? No, no, no. It doesn't say, "Smoking can kill you" nor does it say "Smoking is dangerous to your health. Well, yeah, to some extent, they do say that, but if it were up to me, I'd have it this way:
WARNING Cigarette smoking is dangerous to social-climbers. When the cancer from the nicotine does not kill you, I SURE AS HELL WILL.
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