The Divisoria Adventure

Oh, c'mon. I was just kidding about that no hurricane being able to ever stop me from going to Divisoria! On a Saturday, with the typhoon on full gear, and everybody and their mothers going to the same place...? I seriously didn't think so.

But when I woke up at 9am this morning and was greeted by a warm and sunny Saturday morning, I realized that perhaps I should go. But the cynical voice in my whispered, "give it another hour, and the rain's gonna come pouring in and dampening your spirits," and so I went back to sleep. So when 1030am came and the sun was still as cheerio as when I first woke up, I decided I'd rather shop than sweat it out at Gold's. Nolet and Sheila turning down my last minute invite notwithstanding, I eagerly jumped in the still-cold shower (what am I talking about? We don't even have hot water!), and got ready to hit the Shangri-la of inexpensive hunts.

***

Chivalry Resurrected

Realizing that the old LRT line was going to take me to Recto faster (i.e. a short jeepney ride from my condo to Magallanes MRT station; and then a quick MRT ride to EDSA-Taft; and then LRT 1 to D. Jose/Recto) than if I took the MRT to Gateway Mall and then the very comfy LRT 2 over at Cubao going to Recto, I found myself walking through the Metromall at EDSA. And after mistakenly going to the other side of the route and foolishly realizing I was headed towards the wrong direction, I went back the other way and fell in line at the LRT ticket dispatcher's window.

The LRT train that I boarded was not too full, and I was lucky enough to get a seat. But just as I was getting cozy in my corner, an elderly woman (well, not that old...she was prolly in her early 50s) came inside and stood diagonally across my seat. Almost on instinct, I stood up--quickly scanned the standing passengers and made sure nobody was going to steal that seat in a split-second---and gave my seat to the lady. My secret wish for a simple "thank you" was not turned down. With a sweet smile on the lady's face, she said thank you, and added that I was such a nice young man. (Of course I smiled more with the usage of the word "young" hehehehehe) To which, I returned the sweet smile with a cursory "you're welcome".

As if an air of humanity all of a sudden enveloped our train, at least four or five other men stood up to give their seats to other more in need individuals, mostly elderly. And call me a bloody ray of sunshine if you want, but I felt really REALLY good setting off that goodwill succession.

***

Shopping Splurge

With only 2,500 pesos in my wallet (I had to leave the rest of my cash, because I had to overpower myself from spending beyond that budget), I steered towards the main mall and its annex. Surprisingly, the crowd wasn't that overflowing. And in less than 3 hours, and after a whole lot of bargaining and withstanding stingy Chinese sales managers/owners, I got myself a wealth of goodies...and all totalling about 2,450.

What did I buy? I was able to score a really chic canvas-like messenger bag, a pair of for-regular-wear-and-tear sneakers, a spiffy black windbreaker, a set of flashy silk neck ties from Thailand, and two sets of sassy-looking fabrics (which are now with my tailor, being cut and sewn into a pair of long-sleeved shirts, patterned after my favorite black Springfield).

I definitely need to go back for more. Arrrggghhhh!

Divisoria or Bust

Waiting for a meeting... and breathing from all the book-reading on Customer Service...I clicked on my favorite shopping site triumvirate: Banana Republic, Old Navy, and Gap. Saw helluva lot of NIIIIIIIIIIIIICE shirts and ties. Oh God, I am SO going to max out my credit card later.






And then...a brilliant idea hit me (with matching sounding of a distant bell, "DING DING!"). I'll just buy some fabrics and then have my tailor make it for me...using the same patterns from these shirts online. Yiiihaaa.

Hurricane or not, I am going to Divisoria tomorrow. Nyahahahahahahahah!

Desperate Housewives

Thanks to the unceasing mention of our CEO's being hooked on Desperate Housewives in New Zealand; blogger y_slaybelle's generosity in lending me and my assistant manager her downloaded DivX CD copies of the show; and Eva Longoria and Jesse Metcalfe's hot sex scenes in almost every episode, I finally got hooked on the damned show.

Or "re-hooked". I first saw the show when I was still back in the US (if I remember correctly, while channel surfing, I briefly caught that episode where Bree Van De Kamp [Marcia Cross] was telling her soon-to-be-divorced husband, "Why I feel so terrible that I tried to kill you."), and I remember having laughed so hard I snorted my spaghetti pesto up my sinuses, before I surfed back to the FoodNetwork to watch Bobby Flay do some barbecuing (like I need to learn that).

The show is, to me, a masterful depiction of my own life. And although I am (so certainly) not a housewife (and maybe just a teenie weenie bit desperate), I can totally relate to every single one of them bitches at certain circumstances. How and why? Read.

I am Susan. I will most definitely go to extraordinary lengths for love. I have been burnt and am now being cautious in prospective relationships, it's like walking on egg shells. And I have had my share of the bad luck...but never having been locked out of my house buck-naked.

Also a Lynette. I have traded my high-paying, US-based, one-more-year-before-a-green-card job for my life back in the Philippines. I have mixed moments of sheer panic as a breadwinner of the family, and not to mention feeling inadequate (or plain idiotic) amidst all the bright bulbs in the company.

Bree, I also am. Although I may not be a Martha Stewart on steroids, I have my moments of sheer OC'ness. If things are not in order, or the disorder is not in an "orderly" this-mess-should-be-where-it's-supposed-to-be-at, I will most definitely freak out. Folders need to be labeled properly according to categories; socks and underwear in color coding; inbox messages filed in corresponding subject matters. Come to think of it, I am a Bree and a Monica (of the sitcom Friends) twirled into one! Also, as Bree, I have a tendency to mask what I feel...or at least from the public. My friend once told me that I am such a good actor: that I can swing a jubilant, sanguine persona...but my eyes betray me by showing its anguish and confusion.

Aaah. I see Gabrielle inside me, too. At some point, I think I've had it all in my life...but still I wasn't happy...something else was still missing. Perhaps my standards are just too damned high, I may have to alter it. I fall so easily into temptation. I could get superficial sometimes. (But, hey, who doesn't?) And paranoia is sometimes my breakfast.

Edie. When was I not adventurous and forthright with sexual conquests? Few times. It's mostly the exception rather than the rule. But really, is Edie happy?

Desperate Housewives. Hmm. So, am I desperate? Seriously, I think I'm treading on dangerous waters...and I'm getting closer.

In Memoriam...

I was reading about the first appearance of the Half-Blood Prince on Harry Potter's Potions textbook when I thought I heard my mobile phone ringing inside my bag. The idiot that I was, I forgot to transfer the damned phone from my gym bag/backpack into my overnighter bag (to go to my Teambuilding tonight in Laguna)...and since the backpack was already stowed at the top of my armoire (so that it'd be out of the way), I decided not to stand up and retrieve it. I told myself, if it's really important, he/she'd call at least twice. Towards the tail end of the second attempt to call me, a thought struck me: what if it really was urgent? After all, it was half past one already. That couldn't be a tête-à-tête type of call...or so I'd think! So I decided to stand up and grab it already...with the thought This better be fuckin' important in my head. 'Twas too late. The call stopped and my phone didn't ring anymore. So I told myself that I was just going to give him/her a callback. But looking at the call log, I saw that it was an unknown number, thus an overseas call. I went back to Harry and fell asleep as Hermione was getting annoyed at Potions class.

When my phone rang again this morning and flashed the same "Call" (or number unknown) notification on the screen, I picked it up on the second ring (er stanzz/line of Atomic Kitten's "Be With You" song). It was my friend Ed from Hong Kong. I was excited to talk to him, considering we didn't really talk (let alone email) much.

"Did you get my message, Ben?" Ed said, rather sounding a bit high-strung.
"I didn't get any. Fuck this Globe network," I replied.
And then he said, "Don't be shocked, ok?"
To which I replied, "You're pregnant again?" (of course in a jeering manner).
I got a forced melancholic laugh. 'Twas then that I felt there was something wrong.

"It's Diether, Ben. Wala na siya."
All my grasp of circumlocutions and euphemisms all of a sudden being put on the side, I retorted, "What do you mean 'He's gone'????"
"Ben, he died last night."
"What??? How...why...who....oh, God. Oh God, God, my God."
"It's his diabetes, Ben. We weren't even aware that it was bad. He had complications. Something like meningitis. He died in his sleep."

Call me histrionic, but the next few minutes of our conversation felt...foggy: 'twas as if I was in a messed up reverie of sorts. I didn't even realize I was weeping until I tasted something sour at the corner of my mouth, and my forearm got somehow drenched with tears.

This just couldn't have happened. For Christ's sake, Diether's only my age. Yeah, he's practically seen the world [he and I actually "competed" on the number of "ports of call" we've "terrorized"), had his share of fun and excitement...but...he's so Goddamned young!

I met Diether in my R&R trip to Hong Kong back in 2002. I was with my friend/host Ogie in a bar at Lan Kwai Fong, when he introduced me to a group of young men and women. Diether was one of those people. When we discovered that we were both from Bataan, we practically alienated the rest of the crowd and started guffawing about people we knew: for starters, my then girlfriend, Sherylin was his classmate in high school; and so was my bestfriend Conrad. 'Twas just six degrees of separation in a totally funny, interesting, Mandarin/Oriental way. It being my first time in HK, he toured me around town, brought me to those stores where I spent loads of money on counterfeit, and drank 'til sunrise at clubs and bars with his friends.

After HK, when I went back to Marianas (and then later on in the US) we still kept in touch. We'd constantly YM or MSN each other, and would call each other from time to time, to keep each other posted on what was happening. Whenever he'd come home to Manila, he'd make it a point to see and hang out with me either in Bataan or in Manila even for just 2 or 3 hours. Needless to say, we've remained good friends. In one of my banters with him, I actually told him that I was jealous of Ed for him chosing Ed as his best friend instead of me...but that to feel better, I'd settle for a nice Nokia phone (because he'd always get the newest, top of the line gadgets, damn him). I never got the Nokia. And never got the best friend title. But now that he's gone...I dunno if I could handle the weight of all this.

Diether was such a happy guy.
He lived his life to the fullest...or up to the point where he felt that he's had it all. He was never mean, always optimistic, and took risks with no fear. I wish I was like him. And I wish he didn't have to go so soon.

Diether...farewell. I will miss you and your boisterous laughter. Godspeed.

Chivalry: Dead...?

In one of the workshops I conducted, as I was discussing the concept of "Humanity" (or being humane), a very forthright participant--a lady--commented, "The problem right now is that chivalry is long dead."

This somehow struck some of the participants--both men and women--and got them thinking that, yes, perhaps chivalry (defined by www.dictionary.com as "n 1: courtesy towards women [syn: gallantry, politesse]") is, indeed, already dead. A number of people nodding their heads showed that they were in agreement.

I, however, contested. And I gave them my two cents worth...by giving an authentic case in point. I said that in my whole 20some years of giving my seat up--be it on the bus, LRT, MRT, or any other instance where I could possibly give my seat to a seemingly more "needy" individual--to, say 300 to 500 people (I am not just singling out women here, but I am including elderly people), only about 50 MAX have uttered "Thank you".

In retrospect, I realized that some people--in most cases, ladies--have this strange hypothesis (perhaps told them from generation to generation) that they deserve to be offered a seat by men. And, don't get me wrong. I am no chauvinist male. I do believe that ladies are entitled to this kind gesture. But I am sure that you will agree with me when I say that with this kind gesture, a corresponding kindness is likewise expected: simple gratitude. Two 1-syllable words: THANK and YOU. How hard is that to say?

(And, again, do not get me wrong. It's not like us men [or I in particular] do it as a form of anti-feminist act: that is to insinuate that we are the stronger lot and so women should be given the seats to, and not vice-versa. Likewise, it's not like we [or I in particular] do this good deed just to get a "thank you" as "payment". It's nothing like that.)

Look around. Humanity (or simple kindness in general) is slowly evanescing.

1. You enter a mall or your building at work (or perhaps shop at a botique) and what do you do when the security guard greets you good morning? Nothing. You do not even acknowledge his existence. How hard is it to temper on the condescension every once in a while and greet back?
2. You fall in line (or are caught in traffic), and someone seems to take a (long) while to move on, and thus is holding you up. What's two extra minutes of waiting? Do you have loose bowel movement, and you're in dire need to release your shit that you're in such a hurry?
3. Someone approaches you in the street and announces that he/she badly needs to go home to his province, and he/she needs at least twenty pesos from you. Scammers notwithstanding, why do you find it hard to believe his/her situation, and help him/her out? What has so badly fucked up your trust that you cannot seem to bank on other people's words anymore? Personally, I have been "victimized" by scammers, too. And it's really, really sad how because of these people, we cannot seem to trust them anymore...
4. Sarcasm. Is this the only service you offer?

This list could go on. I'm sure you have more to add to this. But bottom line is: what happened to you/us? Has the world been so bad, and has your life fucked you up big time that you seem to shun from good intentions?

What's that Eraserheads song...? Aah. "With a Smile". It has a line that struck me as, sadly, true. "In a world where everybody hates a happy ending story..." Tell me. When was the last time you watched a movie and said, "Eww. That was such overkill. I think the guy should have died. Or the girl should've left him." I rest my case.

The world needs more Mother Theresas. And they need not all be confined in monasteries.

A whole lot of people of today are skeptical or pessimistic, saying that the world has gone sour and that there is absolutely nothing we can do about it anymore...that nothing will make a difference. To that, I say: it need not be us who would enjoy this "kind world" that we dream of. It may not happen in our lifetimes, but at least, we should start somewhere. Back in my university, there was an adage saying "Kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?" ("If not now, when?") Strong words. It's never too late, but it's now or never.

You still say chivalry is dead? I say not. I say gratitude and kindness died first. Let's bring it back from the dead.

Metropop, Anyone?

My colleague at work have come up with an original composition entitled "Nasa Iyong Kamay (Ang Tagumpay)" (or Victory Is In Your Hands). It basically "talks" of how in the past, we haven't seen any changes, and that we are all yearning for for a brighter future. And it also says that this future (or this victory) can only be reached if we stopped all the complaining, pointing fingers, and started facing the future with a strengthened committment to integrity, humanity, and excellence.

This song was written/composed in line with our company's corporate values alignment program. (I am proud to claim that I have likewise been part of some of the endeavors to make this take flight!!!) Right now, though, we feel that this also befits the current political situation in our country...and we could put this lovely song to good use.

We were hoping to submit it as an entry to the Metropop, but it seems as though there isn't any this year.

Any takers?

Friendster Request

Is it just me or do at least 60% of the Friendster clientele misunderstand the concept of a "friend request"?

I have about 30+ friends requests as I type this blog. I'm still staring at these people's friendly (others cutie, others odd, others interesting, others nondescript) faces, and I realize... Mother of Christ! I do not know these people!

I don't intend to be mean or condescending or smug. But babies, boys and girls of all ages, I think a friend request was meant for those who are actually friends with each other. At the end of the day, I'd like to see who my friends' friends are...and I mean their *real* friends.

If you'd want me to be your friend (or "or more", as two or three of them boldly declared), I suggest you pick on my brains first. Let's exchange pleasantries (aka BS), get to know each other at least virtually (yeah, like cyber-introductions rock!), make me laugh (be original...I may have heard the joke before), and then let's consequently have dinner, coffee, movie, and sex (whoops...that belonged to a previous blog. Strike that out...or not).

What was that age-old adage again? Tell me who your friends are, and I'll tell you mine. NYEHEHEHEHE. ;-)

Dinner, Movie, Coffee, Sex

An acquaintance posted this blog somewhere:

Dinner, Movie, Coffee, Sex...in that order. That's how some people define dating. You start out by having dinner then later on watch a movie then afterwards, coffee and if everything goes well, the next step is to have sex. And I would wonder.. what happened to the real dating?

Are we so much in a hurry these days that we have forgotten to stop and know our date well before jumping into bed? Or is it because of the fact that our world has been so competitive that we need to find out sooner than later if things would work out - sexually. If you like the person so much on your first date, would you rather end it with a kiss or with a phallus in your mouth? Would you rather want to find out sexual compatability at an early stage? Should you decide to postpone having sex with your date and decides [sic] to know him better, would this mean that you are risking "sexual compatibility"? And when do you know that there is a "spark"? Is it when you know you are sexually compatible?

If sex is that important, why don't we start skipping dinner, movie and coffee?

This was my reply.

I have, at several occasions stopped at coffee. Not even a kiss. But at certain instances, it was dinner, no movie, no coffee, and then sex. That even saved me movie tickets and caffeine overload.

Did I feel wrong? Well, not really. For me, it's nothing moral or ideal or anything on that line. At this time and age of instant coffee and noodle soup, where everything is Google-able and retrievable with a push of a button, sex proves no exception.

Right now, it is more of just taking things--in this case, a date--in stride: i.e. by letting it take its own sweet course. For me, as long as it isn't forced or maliciously premeditated (ergo, is spontaneous, and a by-product of energy, passion, and strong attraction), I say sex on the first date is actually a good thing...particularly that fleeting moment of awkwardness or self-consciousness when both are at their most vulnerable. I believe, it is at that point when you get a peek at the person's true countenance.

At the end of the day, it's all a matter of preference...and mutual agreement. After all, it takes two to tango.

On Love and...Nothing

When was the last time you fell in love?
Or better yet, when was the last time you fell in love...and felt it was unrequited?

When was the last time you were told you were too unaffectionate?
Or maybe, when was the last time you were VERY affectionate...only to be told that your sweetness makes him/her "nauseated"?

When was the last time you knew that you were ready to settle down?
Or...when was the last time you knew you were ready...but he/she wasn't?

Argh. I hate this feeling. Where's the old Draconian, cold, just-in-it-for-the-game Ben when you need him?

Fitness First...Customers Last

What follows is my miserable experience with the famed health club, Fitness First...particularly this branch in Robinson's Tower in Ayala, Makati.

I emailed the General Manager because of a pressing matter that needed to be addressed promptly, and also because our supposed meeting/discussions with them were kept indefinitely postponed by the incredibly unprofessional staffs.

Last May 20, a membership consultant named Lai paid me a visit in the office, after I mentioned that my company was considering setting up a Corporate plan with Fitness First. I floated the notion that a colleague from HSBC mentioned a fee of P1650/month as corporate plan, and that perhaps my company could also avail of it. She said that she "will discuss the matter with her boss"; she was then here in my office an hour later, with an "informal" proposal in the form of a printout of their flyer. She then started ticking off figures and quoting us with new ones, whose details I will not even outline here. We parted ways with a promise from her that she will come back by the 30th to bring individual contracts, and a reminder that we should all prepare our debit or credit cards, since those are the only means of payment accepted. Needless to say, there was a verbal agreement that this was a done deal...as witnessed by three of my colleagues and a receptionist fromFitness. When Lai arrived at her office, she even called me to confirm this yet again.

May 23, Monday afternoon, I sent an email to the whole company offering them this opportunity to join Fitness First. After all, as head of Training and Development, it is my duty to ensure that my colleagues are fit in all possible aspects of their being. It was received across-the-board, i.e. including senior management and branches nationwide. The following day saw a number of interested employees.

May 25, Wednesday, while on an out-of-town conference, I talked to Lai to confirm that we have completed the minimum requirement...ahead of time. She seemed pleased, and we put the phone down on a positive note.

The following day, I received a call from a colleague saying that Lai told her that the membership was not going to be effected until July. I called Lai to clarify this. I was told that this was because of an audit being done on corporate accounts, there was a "silipan" that happened, what with some companies using "fake IDs to pass as company employee", etc. I was flabbergasted; after all, this should not be our concern because all the employees in my roster were legitimate employees of my company. She promised to get back to me after she discussed this with her boss.

From May 26 up to this morning, I have been passed on from a Lai to a Francis, to a Soc, and with other persons named Mike, Carmela, etc. All promised to resolve this...but could not really give any concrete answer.

Soc (Lai's manager) finally told us the "bad news", that apparently, there was a glitch: that the rate quoted to us by Lai was only for HSBC, which has a minimum of THIRTY employees...and that if we stayed with only TEN, we will have to pay a monthly due of P2,100 + a joining fee. This was preposterous, considering most of our existing Fitness First members pay significantly less than that already. Converting to Corporate will only be an idiotic decision. I was even told that Lai was not supposed to be handling corporate accounts, and that she was not aware of the rates that she gave us. By God, this was a major, major error on Fitness' end to have sent someone unqualified. Moreover, a customer/client should not have to pay for a mistake that the service provider has committed.

It was very distressing because it was my good name and reputation that I had put on the line by proposing something like this to the whole company...and that it was the same good name and reputation that was jeopardized because this mistake wasn't rectified. Soc's team had more than sufficient time to rescind such offer. They didn't...until that day I called Lai for clarification. The reason I was given by Soc why she did not know of this matter was because Lai apparently did not tell her until last minute. I was then nonplussed in confirming that Fitness' staffs were offering outrageous rates without the GM's knowledge and/or authorization. Clients like I should not be privy anymore to inappropriate leadership aptitudes such as this. But then again, perhaps this should have been kept in check.

As a highly-qualified trainer of customer service programs, who knows what to expect in any service transaction, I was deeply bothered by how this incident was handled. Fitness First kept giving me half-hearted apologies, and a resolution that wasn't at all catering to us clients...despite my being willing to make adjustments and settlements, just so we could still pursue this company endeavor.

It's been two months. I have since enrolled in Gold's Gym (where I am being well taken care of, and where there are doubtless better--and available--equipment), and still no word from Fitness.

How sad...considering it's such a world-renowned health and fitness club. I've heard loads of horror stories about the club, but that's perhaps due on a different blog. If you have your own stories, holla back and comment.

Oh, last I heard, Soc and Lai were terminated. Like, duh.