Valentine's Scrooge
This has got to be my worst Valentine's in recent memory.It started with me leaving my Valentine a couple of thousand miles away in Singapore on the 1st flight out. I was so groggy, I slept the entire way - which was a shame since I was planning on waking up to catch "Shall We Dance?". Not worth the price of admission or even a pirated DVD, but worth the price of a plane ticket. Go figure.
Then it's straight to the office for meetings. That went well actually. The bad part was, I didn't have a ride home since, well, my regular driver is now sosyal, being employed in M&C Saatchi, Singapore. I didn't want to sleep at the Pen either so I decide to rough it and take the MRT. God knows why.
Dragging my maleta (I just arrived this morning if you remember) and my bulky carry-on (made heavy by those dang Shu cleansing oils), I somehow made it to the station. 15 minute queue for the ticket... Not too bad considering I was in the Philippines. Minimal 'siko' from passers-by and at least there was 1 guard trying to keep the peace among the 120 people in line.
Another queue to inspect my bags. Piaw see... I forgot I had brought my whole apartment back with me. Just my luck, the "miracle stick of the Pilipins" - the almighty scanner that can detect bombs, guns and other such explosives by merely being waved somewhere in the vicinity of your bag - was, according to the disgruntled security guard, "low batt".
Punyeta - my undies in display for all the world to see right there in the middle of Ayala MRT Station.
All red from embarrassment, heat and exertion, I make my way to the train. The MRT is such a magical creature - though nobody gets off, it somehow expands inside to keep accommodating the mass of people squeezing, pushing and shoving their way in. This keeps happening for the next few stations, and I get more than a couple of dirty looks for occupying 2.5 spaces (1 for me, and 1.5 for my maleta).
We get to Cubao, and the MRT exhales about a million people all in 1 go. Finally, some breathing room and the rest of the trip isn't quite such a nightmare.
Fast forward 5 minutes after arriving home and I receive 3 frantic calls from my boss and my ABMs. A bomb had just exploded in the Ayala MRT, they said, and they felt the ripple all the way to our office. They were checking to see if I was safe.
After all that ranting and raving, suddenly I'm just glad to be alive... and grateful to have experienced this hardship on my way home. Because at least I could still feel something, no matter the pain, my journey wasn't cut short, and I have a home to return to. Some days, it's more than enough.
posted by moan @ 9:09 PM
2 Comments:
hahaha! what a day!! :) ok lang yan moan... i'm glad ur OK!!!
did they see the bright red undies that's got "diva" written on it with sparkly sequins and glitters? Oh wait, those are my undies!! HEHE just kidding! I'm so glad you're home too! *hugs*
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