- sadness in my eyes... charing
- July 6th, 18:11
Never underestimate the power of a good mani-pedi session.
Random afternoon went to poxy town salon because I badly need a mani-pedi. Last sesh I had was prolly last year, around April, so deffo in dire need of a good scrubbing on my extremities because if I wasn't so desperate I wouldn't go to that poxy thing they call a salon.
The upside to the otherwise jejemon place (their main stylist is a flamboyant gay person who talks in gay lingo all the time and regales his lovelife for anyone to hear and the main receptionist would rather sit inside the salon than in her appropriate receptionist chair in the actual reception) is the elderly woman who is tasked to do mani-pedi's and foot spa. She seems to be the regular one of the bunch cos she's the most quiet even if at one point of the session, she berated the other stylist - a twink of a gay person as flamboyant as the main - in full gay lingo. (She didn't know I speak it until a little later which surprised and embarrassed her cos all the while her co workers were talking about me and they didn't know I understood 100% of what they were spewing about.) She was rather good and light on her hands. Didn't really feel any awkward pain that I usually do whenever I go for mani-pedi's so it's either she's really good or she only did 50% of what my usual manicurist would do which was fine cos tbh, it was really just for the interim until I can take the time to go to Pampanga and visit Nail-a-holics.
Another elderly woman walked in to get her nails done but she had to wait for me to be finished. If I hadn't engaged her in a very lively, very typical Beki-Kim conversation she probably would have walked out na lang and didn't get her mani-pedi done. She did admit if I weren't there, she'd have gone home because my session took a while.
Enumerating what I wanted to capture in this entry in a list na lang because my mind is going in many different directions and they're popping faster than bubbles:
a) The ice was broken methinks when we found out our last names were the same. Although it's her husband who's a DG, she lives in the town I always call "The town my grandfather built" therefore she knows him. Ayun na. May connect.
b) We exchanged stories about the brain fuck that is the province of Nueva Ecija, where the ones who don't dress well are the ones with money (farmers, land owners, typical magbubukid). I told her about this one time I saw a Lola with an outfit na nanlilimahid you would think she lives in a shanty but wait, there's more. Yung dumadaan pala na Land Cruiser na bago, sa kanya yun. She told about the story of how they were discriminated against at a hospital because they thought they were soliciting when in fact they were there for an almost P1,000,000.00 operation. They felt so slighted they paid in cash and didn't even use PHILHEALTH. (Mind you, this elderly woman dresses like a magbubukid so she was really into this topic.)
c) How my life is not sad, but it's my disposition in life living in Gapan, is sad. I don't know how we ended up here but I ended up sharing with her how I don't get to sleep at night (I only get to sleep thanks to zzzQuil) and how I feel so choked by living with parents.
When I was about done and we stopped talking to each other - meaning... di ako nagsasalita...- she suddenly said something that made me almost want to cry.
"Ay. Malungkot nga mga mata mo. Ayan. Nung hindi ka na nagsasalita, halata ngang malungkot ka. Di ka nagbibiro."
For a stranger to see how sad I am, it felt nice. It felt so nice I felt compelled to write about it. If she can see it, when I'm not talking, I wonder if the people who are around me every day can see it as well. Or they just pretend not to, or elderly woman was just giving me lip service.
It can't be helped. As long as I'm still living here, the answer to the question "How are you?" will always be "malungkot". That's one of the reasons why I don't want to make the effort to meet up with friends because it's inevitable I'll be asked that. "Kamusta ka?" "Heto, malungkot. Taga Gapan pa rin eh."
In 10 years siguro, I'll be happier. Baka patay na Tatay ko nuon. Ha ha ha ha... charing.
Finding happiness in this town is so difficult for me because.... hindi talaga dito happy tumira.