Hello, reader! You’re about to see a story similar to the ones seen in Metro Manila Missed Connections (which I’m going to talk about one of these days, among other things). Actually I’m contemplating whether to put this up as an entry. This is a hybrid of an entry for the site and what happened before W met M. So please don’t be confused if I start writing in the third person and then shift to first person – with me referring to a “you”; that was intentional. For now, I’ll just let this sit in my blog.
It was a typical weekday. Ugh. Monday – I hate Mondays. Granted, this day marks the start of our school’s university week, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a boring Monday. I had only the booths to look forward to. Chocolate. I’m craving for chocolate.
I go through the same routine, being woken up by my mom at dawn at prepping myself for the day half-asleep. I usually run out of time in the mornings because I spend majority of it in the bathroom, staring into space while simultaneously forcing myself to take a bath. I get a ride from my dad, up to EDSA. He goes to work, I go up the overpass and towards the LRT station. I get to the mall and LRT’s intersection; for a split second I hesitate, but I proceed to the mall to get breakfast. There’s still time, anyways. And it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done it; nowadays I do it almost every day. It’s a waste of money, but old habits die hard. I finish snacking, and I only have a few minutess left before my first class starts.
I don’t want to be late, so I hurry to get my bag checked and ticket bought. I see the train approaching. The lines for the booth are short, but the throng of people lined up on the platform are thick. I decide to go line up for a mixed gender train to save time; I don’t make it. Given a few more seconds and I might have been in that train. You are in the same predicament; I see you from my peripheral. I feel disappointed, but there’s nothing I can do about it now, is there? We wait side by side, first in line, for the next train. You capture my attention because of your height and built; I always get amused whenever I see someone taller than me. Also I think your profile is attractive. The most impressionable thing about you is your red and grey Letterman jacket, because I dare not look directly at you. Also you have these deep set eyes. Are you biracial? You probably are. Also you haven’t shaved recently, have you? Is that your usual look? I think you have a baby face under all that stubble. But why am I dwelling on this?
I wait with anticipation for the next train. It was only for five minutes, but I felt giddy for that short moment. I thought to myself as I enter the train, “Ah, I wouldn’t see him after all the commotion of going in.” But there you were. You position yourself beside me. From someone none the wiser we probably look like we came each other, although the most we did (or at least I did) was steal a few glances. It was a bit awkward for me, because I can’t steady myself with bars because the space was too congested. His arm was also reaching to the bar in the middle of the train, so his arm kept bumping to me. Got off the train. Surprised that he did the same. I now admit that I tried following him, at least up to the ticket slots. I kept thinking, “What college could this guy belong to? Will I see him again?” But… he ended up being a Benildean. And so I crossed the street wistfully.
A few hours later I was walking with my friend, thinking I’d be sending her home but ended up just buying drinks at Archer’s Place. I saw Mr. Letterman again. I nudged my friend and told her about the LRT thing (which now that I think about it, I made a big deal about it). She then concluded I have a taste for guys with facial hair. I don’t think too much about it, since it only applies to two instances, but whatever.
So, to the guy wearing that red and grey Letterman jacket yesterday, I wish to meet you once more. It was nice being near you.