As some of you may know, my work had a lot to do with Thailand, and this evening, as I craved for authentic Thai food, I decided to go visit SOM's Noodle House on Alger St here in Makati, just a couple of blocks from where I live.
It's a ten minute walk, and I appreciated the workout because I wanted to work up an appetite. Needless to say it wasn't enough for me to go on an ordering spree for the usual fare I eat in Bangkok (pad thai, fish cakes, tom yum goom...). I just ordered sticky rice and Thai/Chai tea.
The place, by the way, was a makeshift canteen on the ground floor of a two-storey, three-door apartment. There were monobloc chairs and tables outside running along the Rockwell fence that separated Poblacian Road from the middle class residential area. Red and yellow pinlights were strewn on tree branches fronting Som's. They looked a bit like fireflies without wings, adding a rustic touch to the otherwise very urban neighborhood.
The clientele was an interesting mix -- there were those in shorts and light-colored sleeveless tops and tsinelas (they must live pretty nearby), and white foreigners and their sexily clad girlfriends (they must work pretty nearby... like dodgy P Burgos St.) arriving in shiny black CRVs. As the seats were mostly taken, I shared a table with a couple of American guys who had Filipina "friends". It would have been more fun if I dared myself to join in their conversation, but my guts weren't up to it. I took out American Gods from my satchel and started reading, while waiting for my sticky rice to arrive. Shoot. I
look so pathetic, I thought, like a complete nerd. I made a mental note to bring my sisters with me next time.
Anyway, while I was stuffing my face and acting like a geek, try as I might, I couldn't help overhear my jabbering seatmates. I was surprised by how witty and engaging the girls were, throwing lines that begin with "There are a thousand things I need to do... (mumble mumble)" and "I don't have friends who aren't sexual, can you believe that? (mumble mumble)" The tenses were perfect. Choice of words extraordinary, compared to the usual, that is. Even some British slang ("loo?") The only giveaway were
some words with heavy southern pinoy accents, which you could miss if you didn't listen as closely as I did.
One girl was probably quite enamored with her pretty boy companion that she exclaimed "Nanggigil ako!" to her girlfriends. The guys' had on bewildered expressions, teasingly asking "Hey, what does that mean?" to which another girl answered, "Oh, she's just saying the food's taking too long."
You might say that the girls might not have been, you know, in the world's oldest profession, but then I lived near Makati's redlight district for about a year (don't ask) so I kind of developed my own radar. They're everwhere -- 24-7, on call. And of course there were naughty stuff the girls kept talking about ("Up 8 hours, I can't wait." "Different positions..."), to which the guys, surprisingly, did not entertain. Just yet.
I was finishing my chai tea and sticky rice (both were excellent, as authentic as authentic can be), and I continued reading, until Pretty Boy whispered with a Texan accent in my direction "Your eyes, baby, you're hurting your eyes."
Did he just call me "baby"?
I was probably so surprised, ... No, so
unnerved that without looking in his direction, I got up, grabbed my book and walked out, straight home. Why? I don't know, maybe because he was right with the light so weak, or maybe he was going out with them women, and maybe because nobody called me baby in a long time.
And now, I'm in an internet cafe trying to figure out what happened to me.
*Photo from Our Awesome Planet (Anton Diaz). 
