Malling alone and other stories
Being currently unemployed means being at the mercy of your mother and your own guilt. To save me from these two, I ran some errands (actually just one errand) early in the afternoon and spent the rest of the day at the mall. I guess staying at home is a concrete manifestation to my mother that I am not doing anything at all and "You are just wasting your life."
Mall was on sale. For someone who has only a little money to survive her till August, that is quite a difficult problem. Was craving for dessert and hot choco, and ended up spending more than planned. Being dateless, I opted to sit at the back of the cafe facing the doorless doors. Strategic location actually, was able to see all shoppers who opted to pass the area. I never realized there were a lot of interesting people who shop at the mall. One woman probably forgot that she was wearing only her bra, either that or her Lavandera had overshrunk her shirt. Another guy seemed like he came out of a matix movie. A couple seemed like they never left the 50’s. Some former officemates of mine went inside the cafe. If you’ve ever experienced eating out alone, you would know how awkward it feels like to have some people you know see you eating alone. I hope my hair was able to hide me. The rest of the time I pretended I was busy texting, when I was just playing rally games. I wanted to vanish.
Another couple went in. It was a butch and her (his?) girlfriend, which I had yet to find out if she’s a straight girl or a transvestite. Butch was bald, had a big muscular body and was wearing khaki shorts. So if a lesbian-gay couple goes out, who’s paying?
Anyway I ended up buying two vintage blouses which was NOT GOOD AT ALL. I’ve often complained to my friends that I have a lot (and I really mean a LOT) of clothes which I haven’t even worn yet for lack of an occasion. It was a good thing I had a shoot a few weeks ago and I was able to wear some of them. But does that count? I now have negative money to survive me till August.
It was friggin’ raining outside and I was to take the train going home. At least it saves me the hassle of passing through wet puddles. Train was jampacked, decided to take the train going the opposite direction so I could get a seat and just take the same train going back. But I was so absent-minded I took the RIGHT train.
Train was semi-packed. It wasn’t too full - it was easy for me reach the center without bumping on anyone. I’ve told a lot of my friends that my eternal pet peeve is seeing able-bodied men sitting on the train’s benches amidst a crowd of women standing up. It seemed so - wrong. I always make a mental note that should any of these guys one day bump into me and decide to court me - they don’t stand a chance. Haven’t women survived several centuries of oppression and indignation, being the weaker sex? History provided us of our menial consolations! And that includes a train seat.
There were three men seated in front of me, all pretending to be asleep. What a great way to be oblivious to women standing up. Tired bearded guy was seated directly infront of me, am remembering his face clearly in case in the future we do meet and he decides to court me. Not a chance. He was only carrying an envelope - HA! I was carrying a big bag! All the more reasons he should stand up and let me sit. Men, no matter how tired they are, should always offer their seat to women, it’s just the right thing to do. We all had a bad day anyway, but we women have it worse - we carry bigger bags, we usually come from uncontrolled shopping sprees, and we wear higher heels.
While standing and finally having memorized the faces of men-who-shouldn’t-court-me-forever, because of utter boredom I scanned the rest of the people standing up. There was this lean guy wearing a green shirt with an Emily the Strange shoulder bag. What straight guy would wear Emily the Strange? Another man at the end corner of the train was staring at me. It’s bad to stare. I try to be nonchalant about his stares but still catch him staring at me. I look at him from the corners of my eyes and see him staring at me! On the other hand, what if he thinks I’m the one staring at him?
Tired Bearded Guy made kalabit and offered me his seat. Hehehehe.
Okay. So it was wrong of me to judge Tired Bearded Guy. When he was standing, I noticed how really stressed he looked like, and he wasn’t just carrying just an envelope, he also carried a lot of grocery. Okay, I am now dying of guilt again.
My eyes darted to Green Shirt Guy’s direction. He was lean and tall - really my type. And his Emily the Strange bag had some chains around it spelling the word L-O-V-E. He had perfectly torn jeans with knee holes, and he had knee-high striped socks covering his knees peaking from under the holes. He had black sneakers and his shirt was vintage-y with rhinestones. I’ve always liked lean men wearing baby tees. Oh, and he had these really cute robot pendants which I’ve been looking for - for a long time (I couldn’t afford the robot charms at Benetton). I was stopping myself on asking him where I could get the robot charms. He probably made them. He seemed like an artist, and I love artists. He couldn’t possibly be gay - He was wearing a trucker cap with rocker/rebel/vintage patches. Gays never wear trucker caps. Oh, and if he would court me - him I will say yes to.
My station now. Stood up, was directly at the back of Artist Guy. He was perfect for me, he was definitely taller, and I’ve always been a sucker for payat guys. Artist guy took out his wallet. It was a pink mini Roxy wallet with pastel stripes and pink hearts. I left the station with a broken heart.
