My Starbucks Hitlist: Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd [Post Valentine Edition]

Damn. I've been itching to write about this since after February 14th and it is only now that I finally found time.

By this time, I guess, the hoopla that was Valentine's Day 2009 has subsided (I'm keeping my fingers crossed). As I look back at it, I realize that this event is becoming more and more celebrated as years pass by. Year after year, there are more roses, more heart-shaped balloons, more heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, and more stupid couples.

Whoops, did I say stupid? Well, I should strike that now, lest I be accused of being a bitter and cold old lady (who only talks to her cats, haha).

Not that anyone is asking, BUT, I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. Well, at least, not like the rest of our pop culture society. Ah, don't call the bitterness just yet. I do have a valid and non-spinster take on this. February 14 has never been V-day to me. It has always been my Mom's birthday. I have always known this special day to be a family day and not as luveyduvey ka-corny-han.

This might've been the reason why I was soooo pissed off when this Lovapalooza thing was first held on V-day several years ago. Not that I found it sappy and lame (as an excuse to kiss in public). Well, I did, but those were just the secondary reasons why I hated it. The Lovapalooza crowds, in addition to the god-forsaken couples who concertedly went out on that one night, messed up traffic so badly, so much so that I was late for class.

Harumph.

Since then, I have known V-day not only as my Mom's birthday or a cutesy-patootsie excuse for couples to go out or a night when every friggin' resto is booked, but also as a solid reason to stay in and avoid the insane traffic.

Which brings me to this year's V-day post.

I avoided the Feb14 traffic this year, but, I was, in fairness, out that night. I was out...studying, that is. I went to my favorite Starbucks and proudly browsed through my readings as I sipped my warm coffee. It was actually a so-so night. I didn't expect to see anything close to a spectacle. Well, it seemed that I was too engrossed with my studying that I almost missed out on a promising candidate for my hitlist:


THE BITTER V-DAY SPINSTERS

Worse than ampalaya. Worse than Bridget Jones. Even no better than xtin.

Tell-tale signs (you know that there are Bitter Spinsters in your midst when):

1. There are a couple of girls sitting together.
2. They carry a single red rose. Identical to the rose each one has.
3. All of them seem to be enjoying the night.
4. There are sporadic outcries of, "I love being single!" or "Gahd! I'm so happy I'm not on a date tonight."
5. The group talks incessantly about their other girlfriend who is, in fact, on a date that night.
6. They end up laughing at the thought of how ugly or lame-ass their girlfriend's date is.
7. The conversation takes a turn for the worse All of a sudden, Pandora's box of bitterness is opened.
8. The ranting goes on: from being miserable (although not admittedly due to being single) to having a crappy job or being fired from one
9. The get-together ends with a closer like, "I'm so happy I spent tonight with you guys." [insert group hug]
10. It is, after all, Valentine's Day.

When I took my nose out of my Sales book that I was too engrossed with, I noticed that Starbucks was filled by groups and groups of girls. There was one pair of girls who caught my attention, though.

Bitter Spinster 1: [on the phone] Di'ba you're on a date tonight? Ha? Ano? Tapos na? Bakit?

Bitter Spinster 2: [listening in to the phone conversation] Ano? Bakit tapos na? Nyek!

BS1: Come here na lang. Go na! We want to see what he looks like!

BS2: [jumps excitedly like someone just bit her ass]

*an hour later*

BS1 and 2: [sees their Taken Girlfriend] HEY!

Bitter Spinster's Taken Girlfriend: [hands one rose each to BS1 and BS2]

BS1 and 2: AWWWW!

BS2: O, what happened on your date?

BS1: Oo nga, where is he?

Hala, ang mga ate, no such thing as privacy. Or being discreet man lang. And to think that this was their highest point of the night. Before Taken Girlfriend came, BS1 and BS2 were sulking in their "ruined" lives. BS1 spoke of getting laid of and feigning being fine. BS2 kept on talking about a boy who would probably fit in one of the chapters of He's Just Not That Into You.

Seeing them that way kind of gave me a certain joy. On paper, I think I was no different than these young women. Alone, so-to-speak. Unsatisfied at work. Bitter in general. I also understand how a night like the 14th of February feels a bit off, simply because I'm not celebrating love the way the rest of society is doing it. But hey, at least I don't call a girlfriend up, in the middle of her date, just so she could share with me how the date turned sour.

I could be bitter. But I will not attempt to uplift myself from the dumps at the expense of a friend. That's low. And cheap. Would rather do it at the expense of an idiot like...oh, and that's another rant right there...hahaha.

Today was a Bad Day

Busy season is here. Damn it.

If you would remember, this blog was a product of the busy season. Just to refresh your memory, this busy season that I speak of is that time at work where the load just comes rushing in. This period is also known as the tax season—the months leading to April 15.

Emotions are at their all time high in the office. Of course, if there would be a ranking of sorts in this category, I would be numero uno. Not that I crumble under pressure. If some people eat when they are stressed out, me? I pick fights. I fret. I bitch. And I bitch some more. That's because during the busy season, I am perpetually in a bad mood. I should actually wear a warning sign saying, "BACK OFF", just to spare some innocent souls from my wrath.

Today, my eyebrows spent 80% of the day together, with the other a bit raised at times, and my lips were curled in hostility. That just means one thing. Busy season na naman. Shet. Away na 'to.

My day's start was not that bad really. I was early for work and, of course, nothing would beat me being on time. I was upbeat and all, ready to conquer the work place when…

My manager engaged me in a "it's your word against mine" game. This is, of course, a game no lowly senior has yet to win. "Sabi mo kaya sa'kin huwag ko tignan [ang documents]…" This senior said. "Ano ka? Hindi ko sinabi 'yan ano?" Not wanting to go even further with this pointless conversation, I listened to what was left to be said and I walked out, disgruntled to say the least.

Eager to do something to brighten up the rest of my afternoon, I went to Glorietta to meet a couple of friends for lunch. The lunch was good and the company was even better. Had I known the string of unfortunate events that would transpire thereafter, I wouldn't have left and gone back to work.

But I did and then, my bad day started to live up to its name. One mishap at a time.

I walked under the scorching heat, in a jacket, along Ayala, just so I could get a cab. I had to go to the client, as it was part of the punishment from losing the "it's your word against mine" game. I couldn't find a cab so I had to relocate from time to time. I also had my laptop with me and, gahd, was it heavy! I was sweaty and admittedly not pleasant anymore. I scored a cab an hour later only to find out…

My colleague, who I was going to meet at the client's and was my sole purpose for going there, has gone back to the office. "Hello, *****? Bakit ka bumalilk ng office?" I asked. In a voice of a little terrified girl, "Ay sorry po. Akala ko dito [office] tayo magkikita." Not wanting to scare her off this early in the busy season, I fought the feeling of shouting at her and at anyone else within the vicinity. I thought I was doing great, but…

The damn cab driver "lame-excused" his way to getting ten pesos from me. Since I was not far from the office when I got my colleague's call, I just asked the driver to turn the next corner and bring me back. Although the ride was shorter than my temper, the driver managed to get 50 pesos from me. The meter said "40.00" , but when I handed him a 50-peso bill, this extortionist retorted in this lame but classic excuse, "Ay ma'am, wala pa po akong barya." Neither did I. Not wanting to shout at this beast of a human being, I mumbled cuss words to myself and stepped out of his cab. Then all of a sudden…

My colleague, who I was going to meet at the client's but has gone back to the office, suddenly popped out of nowhere catching me in the worst mood I've had in months. "Boss! Wait lang," I told my colleague in a voice that filled the lobby. I didn't realize it then but a friend had seen me that moment and told me later in the day how sungit I was to the staff. I felt bad really, but God knows that I was trying. And since HE wanted to test me even more…

The lobby security guard nagged me to clip my damn ID on. Of course, as I didn't have it ready, I had to scramble around the insides of my heavy bag. I didn't find it then so I just went ahead without putting my ID on. But the guard started to insist that I do. "Ugh. Konti na lang talaga, sisigaw na ako…" I mumbled to myself. And do you know what the guard told me? "Weh bakit kayo nagagalit?!?"

ABA'Y P*CHA NAMAN EH. HOY, HINDI KITA KINAKAUSAP, NOH? NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU, MORON. ALAM MO BA KUNG ANO ANG PINAGDAANAN KO THE LAST HOUR? IKAW NGA SA LAKI NG KATAWAN MO, ANDITO KA LANG SA MAY AIRCON AT LILIM EH. ANO PA AKO NA NAARAWAN, NAGLAKAD NG DALAWANG KILOMETRO, UMALIS, BUMALIK, AT DINAKDAKAN NG PANGIT AT HAMPAS-LUPANG GAYA MO? SO TINGIN MO SA'YO LANG AKO GALIT? GALIT AKO SA BUONG MUNDO, P*NYETA!

Of course, I didn't say that. And not being able to say that to his ugly face is what triggered this post, actually. Argh. Not wanting to make a scene, I just said, "Hindi ako nagagalit," as I was trying to fight back the urge of slapping him senseless. Just when I thought I've had enough, I got into the elevator and…

The freaking operator misses my floor. Argh. Argh. Argh. "Boss?!" I called his attention. He just smiled and never apologized. In fact, he was more into making something out of my bad mood than he was trying to become apologetic. I gathered that he was thinking that him missing my stop was the SOLE reason I was in a bad mood, therefore, I was ultimately unreasonable and nagiinarte. Not wanting to make matters worse, I looked down, tried to avoid unconsciously rolling my eyes at the operator, pinched my cheek to numb the urge of bursting, and alighted at the tenth floor, after a round trip elevator ride.

I got to my workspace and thought, "I am never going to do that again." Never will I let them off like that. Never will I put their own feelings first. Never will I hold back. Ever. Again. Nagtitimpi lang ako, but since busy season na, it's this bitch's time to shine. Magalit na ang magalit. Mapaiyak ko na, kung mapaiyak ko. Kung ayaw niyo ng away, better get out of my way. Don't say I didn't warn you.

My Annoying Seatmates Here at Work [Part 1]

Today is the day I shall break the ice. My silence stops here.

Over the last few weeks, I have grown FOND of my seatmates here at work. They remind me of my days as a new hire in our firm. Back when I was four years younger…four years stupider…and definitely four years more annoying.

I think you know what I mean.

It’s like after we spend three years in high school and we finally become seniors. It’s the way we see the people from the lower batches, especially the froshies. It’s the way the younger ones seem more annoying both in how they look and act. It’s the way we suddenly wonder if we were that stupid when we were in the same stage.
I could go about work without noticing them, really, but the annoying things that my seatmates are into are just too glaring to just be passed upon.

Let me just paint you a picture of how the set-up here in the office is like:

Our work area simply a vast common room where there are individual workspaces, no dividers, and no cubicles (at least for those who are not yet managers). There is a hodgepodge of files, determining the ownership of which will truly be a logistical nightmare. The place redefines overcrowding, really. A workspace typically intended for one is occupied by two people, or even more. It is where a simple breathe becomes an invasion of the next person’s privacy.

Could you just imagine how inevitable it is for each one of us here in the office to be familiar with our seatmates’ goings on? All that even when we do not intend or even want to have the slightest idea? We can’t help but be all connected, however annoying that connection might turn out to be. Annoying enough to muster that feeling of wanting to box the next person. Well, at least on my part.

I have at least five officemates within the 3 meter radius of my workspace, all of whom are at least 3 batches lower than me. They have this tendency to engage in “activities” which, to my “seasoned” and “mature” senses, are unreasonably juvenile, tantamount to nuisances, thus, annoying.

Now, I would like to introduce you to my seatmates. This time, however, I will have no accompanying pictures. I still have mercy, you know, however others might think otherwise. Besides, since filing libel charges against bloggers might be the next fad, I think making these out as blind items, at least for this post, would lessen my litigation expenses.


First of [maybe] 5 parts…

Discreetly Haliparot Girls
The name speaks for itself, really. These supposed-to-be epitomes of Maria Clara, hailing from the province, and seemingly exuding of rural innocence and womanhood, are not at all what they project themselves to be.

Discreetly Haliparot Girl #1 (DHG1) sits to my left. She is supposedly a barrio lass: speaks like she’s always whispering, sneezes like an itsy bitsy mouse, gives out a shy smile at everyone, takes itsy bitsy bites off her food, wipes the side of her mouth with her embroidered hanky after she takes a bite of her sandwich, engages in public display of physical intimacy…

Wait…what was that?

Yes, that’s right. DHG1 morphs into this creature completely devoid of intimacy issues every time her boyfriend drops by to check on her:


Boyfriend of DHG1: [in disgusting baby talk] O…bakit hindi ka sumama mag-lunch? Magugutom ka niyan? [steals a 1/8 torrid smooch]

DHG1: [smooches back]

DHG1: [in even more appalling baby talk] Eh kasi…ang dami ko pa gawin eh… [gives out a cutesy pout]

xtin: [pretends not to notice, but is nevertheless annoyed]


Apparently, the Maria Clara of today is overly affectionate and annoying. And when such attitude is displayed in the office, I don’t know because I might be wrong on this, isn’t that considered inappropriate? It’s one thing when she’s like this with her boyfriend. It’s just a whole other ball game when she does the same thing to other guys. Guys. Plural.


Other guy/s: [in an I’m-your-concerned-friend-slash-shoulder-to-cry-on tone] O, musta na? Busy ka ba?

DHG1: [in patent baby talk] Eto…

DHG1: [looks up to guy, gives out a cutesy sigh, and bats her eyelashes]

Another guy: [detects flirtation in the air]

Other guy/s: Talaga? Wawa ka naman…

Other guy/s: [sits beside DHG1, extends his arm over the shoulders of DHG1, gives her shoulders a squeeze]

DHG1: [gives out yet another sigh and leans on the open torso of the guy/s]

xtin: [in disgust and in thought] Naknampuchanamanoe. Alam mo, hija, kung nanay mo ako, makukurot talaga kita sa singit! Burikak ka na nga, salawahan pa! Ay santisima!


To be continued…

Metro Gwapito na ngayong 2009, Metro Gwapo sa 2010

WTF?!?

I have been so moved to write another post about my beloved BF (Bayani Fernando, of course...not boyfriend, pwede ba?). This catharsis was brought about not by the recent developments in Congress where some solons have (finally) realized how idiotic Metro Manila now looks after BF tickled it pink, but by a certain poster plastered on a large wall near the MMDA HQ along EDSA-Guadalupe:

HATE IT. Let me count the reasons why.

1. The poster has BF’s face on it. Need I say more? Actually, I think I do. If a year ago, our BF had a hilarious bad boy poster, he outshines that joke with this joke. What is the punch line this time, you ask? Isn’t it obvious? It is the way his pose tries so much to be candid. He tries so hard to be pensive here, but to me, he ends up looking really fake anyway.
2. It highlights the kind of brown-noser he is.
3. It depicts how his style of “developing” the metro actually made the metro more cluttered. Ang gulo naman kasi ng collage, eh no?
4. It suggests that what is actually clutter, he calls kaayusan and passes them off as his achievements in office.
5. It is a total waste. Of space. Of funds. And of time. Yours and, of course, mine.

I was trying to find time to take a picture of the poster myself. But then, I realized that I did not have to when I stumbled upon it over at the MMDA website. Wow. They’re really proud of it over there, aren’t they?

There are many things there in the website, actually, that most of us will find amusing, to say the least.

In my recent visit, I learned of MMDA’s new battle cry:

METRO GWAPITO NA NGAYONG 2009
METRO GWAPO SA 2010

2010, sir? Did you say 2010? Aba’y kung hindi ka naman ba isang dakot na presumable! You have assumed so many things. Among them are: one, that the word “gwapo” works well with you and; two, that no one will notice that your new battle cry is actually already a tagline for your presidential candidacy. You amaze me, sir, you do. Your class act amazes me.

Despite this amazement, come 2010, I reiterate that though I do not have the slightest idea who to vote for, I am sure who NOT to vote for. My vote will never be cast in favor of a brown noser or an engineer who likes to color his projects pink.

But I still want to thank BF. If not for his tasteful new posters along EDSA (one in EDSA-Guadalupe Northbound, another in EDSA-Magallanes Southbound), I would not have had the perfect opportunity to unburden myself of even just one nuisance in my life. Thanks na rin.

9 QUESTIONS TO 2009: WHY I NOTICE EVERYTHING [an away a day year-ender special]

"2008 will rock," a friend once said.

And indeed, it did. At least for this blog and for whatever purpose it wanted to serve. I have had so much fun putting together things and stories, all for our amusement. From gigster caps to shemaghs, douchebags to ang pinakamababang uri ng tao, from Starbucks Katipunan to KLCC Airport…and to cyberspace. True enough, this blog has somewhat served its purpose—I have vented out excess angst and laughed heartily along the way. Knowing that my persona has been unburdened by several angry and sarcastic posts, makes my 2008 rock harder.

Here's to a year of pintasera moments.
Here's to another year of bitch fits.
And here's to me, because…

I NOTICE EVERYTHING.

Yes, I do. I may even surprise you, as I have the select few that have recently met me and have witnessed my "gift". They note, "Napapansin mo lahat, noh?" to which I candidly respond with a giggle and an "I know, right?" I am remarkably attentive to even the most mundane things that would easily go unnoticed by a normal person.

So…does that imply that I'm ABnormal? Maybe. But that's a totally different post right there.

Whether or not I am a child of normalcy is not the issue. What is, though, are certain questions, answers to which will explain why I tend to notice everything.



Question #1
Why is it that when I'm in class and the professor shoots a question at me, I will most likely miss out on the answer?

Answer
I have been distracted by a classmate's fishnet stockings and a sudden song stuck in my head (I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through, I didn't know how lost I was until I found you)



Question #2
Why is it that when a friend is telling me some story, that is, as most stories tend to, taking too long to finish, it is not far of a possibility that I will zone out and stare into space?

Answer
I am taking notice of something else, say, the cute guy whose view is conveniently located behind my friend's head.



Question #3
Why is it that when I'm walking down the street, even when I seem to be busy "not looking", I am looking?

Answer
I am actually analyzing the science of your wearing a horrendous pair of boots.

Question #4
Why is it that when I'm in my ride to the office, rather than getting on with a nap, I'd look out the window? Or when I'm eating in a good restaurant, rather than getting on with my meal, I'd stop chewing food and stare at you just to mock you?

Answer
You are wearing a stupid scarf, the cultural meaning of which you have half an idea of.

Inevitably, I will go, "Pre, bakit? Malamig ba? Feeling mo ba may winter dito sa Pilipinas?"



Question #5
Why is it that when I'm boarding the plane, instead of just getting to my seat, I take my time looking at you?

Answers

1. I am caught off guard by your hideous Indiana Jones hat and the bald white guy you are with (which makes me ask the question, "What kind of BUSINESS is this girl into?")

2. I am utterly irked by your wearing a gigster cap

Question #6

Why is it that while in the airport, I might be on my way to the carousel to get my bag, but I will be stalled on my way by the sight of you?

Answers

1. You are wearing a blanket as a cape? (Superman, isdatchu?)
2. Your girlfriend thinks that cowboy hats have made its way back to the fashion mainstream

Question #7
Why is it that while hearing mass, I might look like I'm in deep reflection, but really, I'm reflecting on something miles away from spiritual enlightenment?

Answer
You're wearing a pair of sandals which is so typically jologs.

Question #8
Why is it that while in the mall, rather than busying myself with the ongoing sale, I'm more interested in looking around and staring at you?

Answers

1. You are an idiot whose outfit was inspired by a watermelon
2. The girl next to you has a ridiculous fashion ensemble

Question #9
Why is it that even while I surf the net, instead of keeping to news and current affairs sites, I am more interested in googling random things for a chance to INADVERTENTLY stumble upon your Friendster account?

Answers

1. Your barkada picture gives me sheer joy. It makes me want to listen to the Tagalog version of Low. Or the Tagalog version of Umbrella. Or just any Salbakuta song.
   

2. I love it that you are friends with celebrities.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

My Starbucks Hitlist: Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd [Holiday Edition]

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…Jack frost nipping on your nose…
Although It's been said many times, many ways…
A very Merry Christmas to you.


There is something about Starbucks during Christmas that makes it more conducive for studying. Yes, I know how geekish of a statement that was. Nerd tendencies aside, though, I might not have grown fond of devoting so many hours for studying, but Starbucks in December makes the idea of studying more appealing to me.

The soft play of classic Christmas songs, the aroma of the Starbucks Christmas brews, and the cold breeze of December (or maybe just the AC) make up a good mix of lethargy and energy.

Unfortunately for me, there are other idiots who find the Christmas Starbucks appealing to them as well. Fact of the matter is, Starbucks actually fills out with MORE idiocy during the holidays than usual. You would think that the Starbucks crowd is homogenous throughout the year. For some reason, though, the usually annoying Starbucks parokyanos become extra annoying during Christmas time. It is as if the warm and fuzzy Christmas atmosphere is actually a breeding ground for nuisances.

As much as I would like to wallow in my Starbucks holiday zen, it would only take a seemingly enigmatic but annoying idiot to irk me and ruin everything for me. If in, say, March or August, it took me a few minutes to lose my cool upon seeing the Korean Mob or hearing an Enunciator, in December, it will take me half the time. Given that analogy, ladies and gentlemen, you don't have to be a genius to figure out that in December, however relaxing Starbucks actually is, I will be more irritable than usual. There may be less species of idiots than the rest of the year, but by god, are they quality idiots—definitely worthy of a bullet. Or two.

Presenting...

My Starbucks Hitlist (Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd): Holiday Edition


Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #1 DOUBLE STICKER ABUSERS

Desperate times call for desperate measures. That is if by "desperate times" you mean a desperate need to get the Starbucks planner and if by "desperate measures" you mean staking out until a specific time just so you could get two stickers instead of only one.

Tell-tale signs (You know that one is just a double sticker abuser if:)

1. You see a person sitting at some table, without a cup of coffee in tow, seemingly waiting for someone
   
2. That person stakes out at that table for an extended period of time
   
3. Suddenly, as the clock hits a particular hour, the person stands up and heads for the counter
   
4. The person excitedly finishes his/her purchase of one choice Starbucks beverage and enthusiastically extends his/her promo card to the barista
   
5. The barista puts not one, but two promo stickers on the card.
   
6. The person makes out a smile that extends from ear to ear
   
7. [On some rare, but highly possible, occasion] the person, while waiting for his/her order and upon hearing another customer tell the barista that he/she is not collecting promo stickers therefore he/she will waive his/her rights to the stickers, musters enough kapal ng mukha to tell that other customer, "Okay lang, akin na lang ang stickers mo?"
   

I don't think Starbucks still has the promotional campaign this year, but the kind of people such a promo produced in 2007 deserves a spot in my hitlist.

In the minutes leading to the select hour, Starbucks was usually filled to the brim with eager beavers. Those who were obviously delaying their purchase until such time that they could finally avail of the double stickers promo. It would have reminded you of how French Baker looks like half an hour before closing, when all of their pastries are marked down to half off. Well, at least the guys over at French Baker are waiting for the bread. The Double Sticker Abusers, on the other hand, would kill their own young and are simply waiting for stickers, for a free planner. Wow, right?



Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #2 THE BRITISH GRADUATE ISKOLAR

It's funny when Madonna pretends to have a British accent. But if a fugly, social-climbing creature does it, it would call for violence rather than humor.

For this particular nuisance, I would rather dispense with the usual enumeration of the tell-tale signs. Let me just begin by giving you a visual to aid your imagination.

Save these images in your head, okay? Now imagine this idiot engaging in conversation with the baristas, as he was unaccompanied and had no one else to talk to. Imagine him holding extended monologues about himself and what he does. Imagine him and his trying-to-be-a-female voice causing all this verbal ruckus…wait for it…wait for it…in English. Not just in plain English, with a run-in-the-mill American or even call center agent accent. Imagine him talking in a cheap British accent. Imagine the baristas, upon hearing such a unique accent, ducking under the counter to make faces or just give out a laugh.

Freak:[in his British accent, translations in brackets] I'm finish-aing my MA the-suhs [thesis] in YUPEHEY [UP, as in University of the Philippines]

Xtin: [SOLID NOSEBLEED yet in thought] POCHAH. Seriously?

I was enjoying a zen-like state in Starbucks Trinoma when I inadvertently overheard this idiot talking in a British accent. I was wishing so badly I had not heard the cheap accent. It was so disturbing that got into a blackout of sorts. I wasn't absorbing anything I was reading. I wasn't even tasting the goodness and richness of my coffee. I was trying to fight my first instinct of hitting him at the back of his head. I even tried to discreetly record his voice, but to my dismay, my recorder failed me. I ended up just taking a picture of him. Nice outfit, by the way.

It is also worthy of noting that the British bastard had a UP 100 jacket. At a point in time, he was wearing it over his shoulders, like a shawl, in such a way that the front part of the jacket [which had a blaring UP 100 written across it] was exposed for everyone to see. To my mind, he had to do that. He had to wear his jacket that way to broadcast that he belonged to a reputable educational institution. Otherwise, no one would think that he was educated at all. Who would? By the way he was acting and talking, of course, no one would have mistaken him as an ivy leaguer. "Social climber" would have easily popped in their heads. At least, that was what popped in MY head.

British pala ah. Coño ka ba kamo? Talaga lang. Eat shit, my friend. Eat some fothermuckin' shit.


Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #3 HOLIDAY DOUCHEBAG

P're, question…Malamig? Usher isdatchu? Or is it Chris Brown?

Tell-tale signs (You know he's a holiday douchebag if:)

1. He walks into Starbucks in his winter get-up, with a swagger of a champion
   
2. We're not in the US therefore, there's no winter
   
3. The winter outfit is nonetheless justified by either the AC or the cool December breeze
   
4. You feel the sudden urge to strangle this guy with his makeshift scarf
   

Gahd. After a number of posts on it, this might sound so cliché, but I sure do hate douchebag fashion. What annoys me even more is the fact that the coldness of December gives them some sort of reason to wear their horrendous style choices. Look at him:

He looks so comfortable, leg rested on the armrest, hand placed on the hat, body tilted to forming a convenient pose and all. He seems unaware of the impropriety of his outfit.

The scarf sure looks good—good enough to be a noose, right?


There you go. This might be the shortest hitlist of them all, but the nuisance factor is truly on a higher notch during the holidays.

Now that those nuisances are past me, I can now proceed with sipping my hot drink, sitting comfortably in my seat, and studying in my lovely Starbucks corner. I'm putting on my earphones now and shutting the rest of the world out, lest another nuisance walks in and breaks all hell loose.

[See other Starbucks Hitlists here]

Oist, magsitahimik nga kayo! [Shut your pie hole!]

You know you’re a Filipino if…

...You tail an ambulance just to beat the traffic.
...Instead of "I beg your pardon?" you say "Ha?"
...You're always late.
...You ask people you have just met how many children they have and what their spouses do for a living.
...You stand out because you talk and act loudly and with exaggeration.

I opted to begin with quotes from “You Know You’re a Filipino If…” because this book puts in a plain and humorous manner those annoying Filipino habits which would otherwise be considered politically incorrect to mention out loud. The last one is admittedly my original, though.

Political incorrectness is that particular defense against those who choose to not go blindly when they see Pinoys acting in an, well, unorthodox manner. Most people, Pinoy and foreigners alike, do not easily get away with criticizing these quirky Pinoy habits. Take Malu Fernandez as an example. She made unprecedented comments about OFWs she was with during a flight she took on her way to Greece [and back]. In the article she wrote, she said:

However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the
majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The
duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and
perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped
in a plane with all of them.While I was on the plane (where the seats were so
small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on
the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh,
popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless
yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?”
Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?”
I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell.On my way
back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had
already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with
all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while Jo Malone evaporated
into thin air.All in all, it’s been a pretty good summer. Jetting from the
Aegean Sea to the Pacific may sound a bit pretentious until you wake up in
economy class smelling like air freshener. [source]

In yet another article:

As all of you know I have just returned from a wonderful holiday in the
Mediterranean. To cut on some costs for this impromptu vacation I was forced to
fly economy class which I absolutely do not wish on my worst enemy. I was,
however, encouraged by my travel agent to try out Emirates since it won the best
economy class, so with great trepidation I flew on Emirates via Dubai,
completely forgetting that Dubai is the hub for all the Filipino migrant
workers. Call me whatever you like but when you are trapped in economy class
that is filled to the brim with migrant workers the smell gets a little funky
after nine hours of flying. [source]

It has been months since the article was emailed to me. The mood of that forwarded mail was contempt towards Ms. Fernandez. And it was indeed contempt that I felt. There truly was a glaring feeling as if she was singling out OFWs and that she hated them or at least being with them. However disturbing her article was, I could not help but ask if, even by some small possibility, could she have been just saying the truth? Something so condescending and politically incorrect, but the truth nonetheless??

Just last month, true enough, I think I began to see what Ms. Fernandez was incriminated for saying.

I was on my way to the KLCC airport to catch my flight to Bangkok. I took a shuttle bus from the city to the airport. I took the front most row in the bus and, since I saw that the bus was hardly half full, I comfortably occupied even the seat beside mine. A few moments before the driver closed the bus doors, two familiar faces boarded the bus. It was a man and a woman, maybe in their early 50s, who had skin color similar to mine. I knew that I didn’t have an idea in the world who the man and woman were, but they were nonetheless familiar.

“Buti na lang umabot tayo,” the man told the woman as they occupied the seats just behind mine.

“Ah,” I thought, “Pinoy pala.”

But the pleasant feeling of affinity only lasted up to that point.

The whole one hour and fifteen minute-trip to the airport, the two were talking, ever so loudly, to each other, as if they were the only ones on the bus. The bus was barely empty and none of the other passengers had the same unrefined attitude as the two which made their irritating and screeching talk and laughter resound all the more. Ang ingay, p’re, sobra! I had my earphones on, but the loud talk made its way to my eardrums, disallowing me a brief rest to alleviate a migraine I have been having the whole day that had just passed. I didn’t even pay attention to what silly things they were talking about. Every sound that they made didn’t come to me as comprehensible words so much as they sounded like loud buzzing and ringing.

“My god! Hindi ba sila nahihiya? Sila lang kaya ang maingay dito!” I thought angrily.

And since they irked me, quite a bit, the whole ride to the airport, I made it a point that before we parted ways, I would steal a shot of “BOY AND KRIS”, for posterity’s sake, of course:






*****

A couple of weeks ago, on the other hand, I went to Kota Kinabalu. My friends and I were quite amused at how even in the most remote areas of the island, there were Filipinos. We gladly listened to their stories of why they were working in Malaysia and how they got there. All of the instances, really without exception, when asked where they were from, they would answer “Sulu” or “Zamboanga”, and when asked why they left and migrated to Kota Kinabalu, they would give a reply “Umiiwas lang kami sa gulo [sa Mindanao].”

We understood perfectly where they were coming from. We didn’t pity them at all because of what had happened to them—to have been left no choice but to exile themselves to a land not their own. If anything, we were relieved. The kind of relief that even just a family or two have been freed from the danger of the war in Mindanao.

Safe to say, I developed a pleasant outlook on the Pinoys we met in KK during our stay. But it didn’t take long for some idiots to [almost] ruin that positive disposition.

There I was, walking along the shores of Manukan Island in KK’s Tunku Abdul Rahman Marine Park, when yours truly was confronted by familiar distasteful behavior.

Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur [the fur], the whole club was looking at her…she hit the floor, next thing you know, Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, LOWWW…

I heard the de facto national anthem of the Philippines, Flo Rida’s “Low”, of course, blaring out from some cheap boom box somewhere along the beach. There was no doubt in my mind that I was a few steps away from a notorious pet peeve of mine—Pinoy Jologs.

True enough, a few meters from our table were a bunch of rowdy and NOTABLY NOISY individuals who were partying, dancing, and singing, in broad daylight, mind you, to MY wit’s end. At that point, I could only assume that they were Filipinos because I have yet to obtain any confirmation to that effect.

As if on cue, I walked past the group and two beer-bellied half-wits started singing some Tagalog love song. You know how that goes…at the very moment a girl passes by, these machismo Pinoy epitomes of tambays acknowledge her and pay tribute to her beauty by intentionally-but-unintentionally singing, in a patent lasenggo volume, some love song like “Ang halik mo, na-mi-miss ko…”

After the guys finish their short song number, the rest of the group screams and breaks into patent inuman ng mga tambay tuwing pista behavior. They didn’t know, of course, that I could understand, perfectly well, all their remarks and comments they were shouting at each other. A couple of those statements were about me.

I walked away from this mob, but as I was doing so, I took one more look and noticed that at least two girls, in their two-piece swimwear, those with culottes as bottoms, dancing atop their beach table, ala Julia Stiles in 10 Things I Hate About You. I looked around, but none of the other vacationers were engaged in such bakya pandemonium.

It also didn’t help that they were a not-so-attractive bunch. Matabungks outfits for the girls. Beer bellies for the guys. And of course, Tighty whities ala trunks for the most not-so-attractive of them all.

Nakakahiya, ‘di ba? What? Hindi ka nahihiya? Well, ako oo.

Well maybe the wisest thing for me to do at this point is to just desist, lest people out there would crucify me, as they did Malu Fernandez. I could say that I find similarities in my view and Ms. Fernandez’s. Noisy and unattractive people annoy us. We both turn this annoyance into criticism and sarcasm that form part of our humor. But a stark difference is that nowhere in this post will it seem like I am singling out a particular group of Filipinos. When I say Filipinos are infuriatingly noisy and seemingly lacking of discipline, I don’t mean OFWs, rich, poor, adults, kids, men, or women. I mean that we ALL have a tendency to display such behavior. It is not because we are actually undisciplined. Uneducated. Or unrefined. That is because we are not.

It is just how we Pinoys are. We can be irritatingly quirky sometimes, but we are pleasantly entertaining most of the time. Nakakahiya, oo. Pwede ding nakakairita. Pero madalas nakakatawa lang talaga.

[cue boisterous Pinoy laughter]