Hotel Arizona.

Today in random Americana:

The city where the office I report to is located is a nice, laid-back Arizona city, Gilbert. The place is clean, the people friendly, and the area looks as harmless as a sleeping puppy. Except for the hotel right across the street.

After the department director spoke to the training class, there was a mild distraction when one of the employees excitedly mentioned that there was a shout-out at the hotel.

“Now you know why we didn’t put you there,” the trainer told my colleague and me. Apparently, that hotel occasionally has these violent incidents every couple of months.

Liberty Tax

“You’d see SWAT there sometimes,” another employee gleefully joined in. “The rest of the city is nice, but that place is so ghetto.”

#30DayWritingChallenge: Something that happened in a car.

Day Twenty-Two: Something that happened in a car.

The world started spinning the moment I stood from my seat.

“Can I stay over at your place?” I asked the guy I just met. He was friends with my friends and I thought he was trustworthy. Cute and trustworthy.

It didn’t help, the short walk to the roadway. Every step felt like a tumble and I begun feeling like my stomach was starting to protest.

It wasn’t the only one. I vaguely remembered one of our companions complaining. He wanted to be with the guy. How did I ever get so lucky?

The cab driver might have had misgivings if he should let us in. His instincts were right, of course, but he still agreed to bring us to Pasig.

I can’t remember what the ride was like, now. It was probably awkward and quiet. I wouldn’t trust myself talking while trying to hold my beer down. The world was hazy and my eyes couldn’t focus.

It happened when the cab was about a hundred meters from the guy’s place, like a bad sitcom sequence. That point where I could have waited just another minute and things would not have been as embarrassing. I threw up.

No one throws up with dignity. One can hope that he can at least open the cab window and let puke fall out to the street. I didn’t do that.

Damn manual car windows. I barfed while the window was still halfway open with some vomit falling on the cab floor. The driver should have listened to his instincts.

At least I didn’t puke on the guy. He wouldn’t have slept with me if I did.

#30DayWritingChallenge: A moment that filled me with fear.

Day Seventeen: A moment that filled me with fear.

There had been a few times in my life when I was really afraid: One semester when I failed most of my subjects. Jerking awake after I fell asleep, drunk, during a jeepney from Marikina to Pasig. While waiting for my test results during an HIV scare.

One vivid memory which stands out was when I nearly crashed into a train. This was back when I was still a fanboy for a local band and became good friends with two of the band members.

They had a gig in Manila which I went to. The two guys lived in the south and they offered me to hitch a ride with them since we will be going the same way.

We were all chatty during the ride along Buendia until we approached the train tracks parallel to the South Superhighway. Except for the guitarist (who wasn’t the driver), none of us in the car drank much during the gig. But none of us did not see that a train has already started crossing the road ahead of us.

We probably would not have even when we were all quiet. It was a couple of hours past midnight and there were not many street lights along the intersection. The alarm that tells of an incoming train did not go off.

The car skidded to a halt when the driver slammed the breaks. We stopped some five meters way from the train, a really close call.

We were shocked for a minute or two while we waited for the train to pass. There was a release of held breaths and then we started laughing and talking at the same time. We just had a Final Destination prelude, how else should we react?

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Not as easy as Pi.

It’s the Pi Day of the Century, as well as the day after Friday the 13th. But it looked like my unlucky Friday was extended for 12 more hours until Saturday noon.

I was in Tayuman, on my way to meet a friend for lunch before I heading to Quiapo for the afternoon. My friend and I agreed to have some pasta, which we discovered we both we craving.

Before I reached the mall, I saw a Metrobank branch and decided to withdraw from the ATM. A few keypresses later, I was waiting for the machine to dispense my cash. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

With a growing dread because of the odd delay in the transaction.

Finally, the ATM monitor flashed a message of regret: My card was captured. On a weekend when I only have 200 pesos left in my wallet.

I called the bank’s Support number but my fears were only confirmed when the bank representative explained that I cannot claim my card until Monday, when the bank opens again, and in that same branch where it was captured. The poor girl didn’t deserve getting the full blunt of my frustration, but she so happened to work in the detestable Metrobank.

What was supposed to be a pasta lunch date ended up an inexpensive fastfood trip, with my friend paying for my meal.

I was grateful but at the same time uncomfortable accepting the meal. It’s easier for me to accept free meals when I have money, because I can immediately return the favor: but drinks or desserts, in my turn. After all, I am working and earning for myself; I should not depend on someone else buying food for me.

It was an idiotic rationalization and I was stressing too much, thinking about it.

I was glad my friend tolerated my spewing vitriol against Metrobank every three minutes while we were eating and was not affected by my aura of bad vibes. Nobody really wants to have lunch with a walking beacon of negativity.

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A day described through unpublished tweets.

Several posts I sent to Tweetitow were not published yesterday and today. I guess their server is swamped again, so it can happen that tweets I sent yesterday will suddenly be published a week from now.

It surprises me, too, how I don’t feel bitter towards couples I see celebrating Valentines.

Must be because of growing older. I’m no longer bothered by some things I used to be bothered with. Seeing people openly displaying their love, not caring who can see, was heartwarming.

I had a late lunch with a friend in Eastwood and we were looking at them happy couples. One in particular were two guys whose elbows kept bumping as they walked close to each other. At one point, one guy was stroking the other’s nape. It was so cute.

Fuck! I accidentally dropped a steel liquor flask on several shot glasses. One glass very nearly fell on the floor! #klutz

I was inside a shop selling collectible memorabilia, waiting for another friend to arrive. I picked a flask covered with cling wrap to see how much it cost. It was somewhat sticking to another cling wrapped flask which I tried to unstick.

One of the flasks fell on the shot glasses displayed below.

“Fuck!” I shouted with horror when I saw that happen. The flask didn’t break anything, but one shot glass was shoved past the edge of the display rack. Good thing I was able to stop it from falling to the floor. Once everything was back in place, I very carefully moved away from that rack.

The liquor flask cost 1500 pesos.

That may have resolved several years of sexual tension. Or it may have not.

This requires a separate post.

My supposed follow-up tweet was: Just because you have the hots for each other doesn’t mean you have to end up as boyfriends. And that’s a good thing.

It’s been ages since I came home this drunk.

I even missed my bus stop and got off at Pasay Road. There were moments during the bus ride when I blacked out a little, I think.

And I woke up with a hangover. That hasn’t happened in a long time.