This public service reminder is brought to you by The McVie Show.
Because the holiday season is fast approaching, I’m sure there will be a rise in criminal activity over-all. Pick-pockets, snatchings and hold-ups may become more common as the Christmas and bonus season approaches. Which is all the more reason to avoid picking up strangers and bringing them home. I was just told by an online friend that he had been robbed of a cellphone and cash by his take-home. The guy slipped out of his place before he woke up in the morning.
The additional spending during the holiday season makes people more desperate for extra cash obtained in any which way. I don’t want to sound praning, but better be safe than sorry.
May this season of cheer be what it really should be, a time of blessings and joy. Take extra care, all of you.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Inday Will Always Love Youuuuuuuuuu!
Gotterdamerung raised some good points for further discussion re. Inday Gee and the Aruba Bar incident.
[1] “…what if a really butch dyke entered the premises, you know, very masculine, sporting short hair, polo and slacks, with an obvious macho swagger, do you think she will be shown the door as well? She should be, but chances are, she’ll get away with it. (I am presuming, of course).”
Since none of us are associated with Aruba Bar, let me begin by stating that the following will contain presumptions and assumptions.
If they followed their dress code to the letter, the Aruba staff should not have allowed the dyke in their premises. This assumes, of course, that the staff at the door does not mistake her for a guy. Given your description, there is a possibility that they’ll let her in simply because they thought she was a he.
However, assuming that the Aruba Bar is bent on screening out really loud, very obvious cross-dressers, then it’s possible that the staff will allow that dyke inside. This will go against the letter of their code but it will be in keeping with its spirit.
This leads into the next point you raised.
[2] “It seems to me that the bar simply didn’t want to alienate their straight patrons who might not want to mingle, mix, or at least be seen with loud and flamboyant queens (well, can you ever imagine Garutay not in drag?). The dress code is in place precisely to keep them out. After all, Aruba bar isn’t a gay bar, for crying out loud. Management ostensibly wants to keep the bar’s core customers, i.e., straight patrons. It boils down to a question of economics.”
This is the sad reality we face. Business establishments want to keep their primary customers comfortable inside their venues. But in our society most straight people (and not a few gay ones too) find it very uncomfortable to mingle with loud and flamboyant queens, especially in venues where they just want to relax, hang around and be entertained. If these queens start invading a comfort zone of theirs, like a bar or a gym, then it’s likely that the straights will feel uncomfortable, maybe even threatened. They may even start avoiding that particular venue altogether. It’s not surprising, therefore, that bars like Aruba will put up rules that limit, if not totally exclude, “undesirables” in their venue.
But how does one keep “undesirables” out without appearing like a bigot? Aye, there’s the rub. “No cross-dressers” is neater and simpler while “No noisy, flamboyant and openly-gay cross-dressing men who rub straights the wrong way by talking really loud and who act obnoxious by straight men’s standards” is a tad too unwieldy a sign.
[3] “Just because the bar has the right to impose its own policy and enforce it doesn’t mean it is right. Think of apartheid in South Africa a few decades ago. Discrimination against blacks was institutionalized and made a policy. Legally speaking, Botha’s government didn’t breach any rules, but that does that mean the policy was right?”
Interesting choice of analogy you used. Discrimination against a race is on a different level versus discrimination against choice of wardrobe. One can decide to change clothes, but one cannot decide to change skin color, Michael Jackson aside.
But I do appreciate and get your point. That’s why I raised the bigger question: why insist on a dress code in the first place?
Let’s be honest here: “No sando, slippers and shorts” is usually meant to exclude the can’t-affords. But what if Bill Gates wanted to be comfortable while shopping and decided to wear flip-flops? (Assuming, of course, that Mr. Gates will go out of his way to physically shop and not just buy things online, or have someone else do the buying for him.)
Maybe the key is in examining the real reason behind imposing such dress codes. The “no sando, etc” could have been born out of an attitude of excluding the poor-who-cannot-afford and the dirty-who-may-soil-our-merchandize from loitering in a venue that’s clearly not meant for them. Is this attitude “hoity-toity” and “snooty”? Or seen in another way, is it just being “practical” (the thinking behind it being: just to play it safe, let’s discourage people who have no chance of doing business with us from entering)?
Here’s a different perspective on dress codes. In Marikina City Hall, no one—employee or visitor alike—is allowed to enter wearing slippers, shorts and sando. No matter how poor you are, if you have any business to transact in City Hall, you must dress up. You need not dress up to the nines; plain sneakers and a plain t-shirt will do.
The reason behind it is simple: to teach people—employees and public alike—to respect the institution by forcing the change to first start from the outside. This idea is also the insight behind that by-now famous book Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell: changing the environment can also change the behavior of the population.
So is it “wrong” then for the Marikina City Hall to enforce a dress code? Obviously the difference in the two examples is in their intentions. One seeks to exclude, the other seeks to effect positive change. One is seen as negative, the other looks positive on the surface. Will a positive intention justify a rule?
Okay, that’s enough. I’m getting a headache already. And I’m not sure if this is funny or entertaining to read at all.
I’m going out to dinner now.
[1] “…what if a really butch dyke entered the premises, you know, very masculine, sporting short hair, polo and slacks, with an obvious macho swagger, do you think she will be shown the door as well? She should be, but chances are, she’ll get away with it. (I am presuming, of course).”
Since none of us are associated with Aruba Bar, let me begin by stating that the following will contain presumptions and assumptions.
If they followed their dress code to the letter, the Aruba staff should not have allowed the dyke in their premises. This assumes, of course, that the staff at the door does not mistake her for a guy. Given your description, there is a possibility that they’ll let her in simply because they thought she was a he.
However, assuming that the Aruba Bar is bent on screening out really loud, very obvious cross-dressers, then it’s possible that the staff will allow that dyke inside. This will go against the letter of their code but it will be in keeping with its spirit.
This leads into the next point you raised.
[2] “It seems to me that the bar simply didn’t want to alienate their straight patrons who might not want to mingle, mix, or at least be seen with loud and flamboyant queens (well, can you ever imagine Garutay not in drag?). The dress code is in place precisely to keep them out. After all, Aruba bar isn’t a gay bar, for crying out loud. Management ostensibly wants to keep the bar’s core customers, i.e., straight patrons. It boils down to a question of economics.”
This is the sad reality we face. Business establishments want to keep their primary customers comfortable inside their venues. But in our society most straight people (and not a few gay ones too) find it very uncomfortable to mingle with loud and flamboyant queens, especially in venues where they just want to relax, hang around and be entertained. If these queens start invading a comfort zone of theirs, like a bar or a gym, then it’s likely that the straights will feel uncomfortable, maybe even threatened. They may even start avoiding that particular venue altogether. It’s not surprising, therefore, that bars like Aruba will put up rules that limit, if not totally exclude, “undesirables” in their venue.
But how does one keep “undesirables” out without appearing like a bigot? Aye, there’s the rub. “No cross-dressers” is neater and simpler while “No noisy, flamboyant and openly-gay cross-dressing men who rub straights the wrong way by talking really loud and who act obnoxious by straight men’s standards” is a tad too unwieldy a sign.
[3] “Just because the bar has the right to impose its own policy and enforce it doesn’t mean it is right. Think of apartheid in South Africa a few decades ago. Discrimination against blacks was institutionalized and made a policy. Legally speaking, Botha’s government didn’t breach any rules, but that does that mean the policy was right?”
Interesting choice of analogy you used. Discrimination against a race is on a different level versus discrimination against choice of wardrobe. One can decide to change clothes, but one cannot decide to change skin color, Michael Jackson aside.
But I do appreciate and get your point. That’s why I raised the bigger question: why insist on a dress code in the first place?
Let’s be honest here: “No sando, slippers and shorts” is usually meant to exclude the can’t-affords. But what if Bill Gates wanted to be comfortable while shopping and decided to wear flip-flops? (Assuming, of course, that Mr. Gates will go out of his way to physically shop and not just buy things online, or have someone else do the buying for him.)
Maybe the key is in examining the real reason behind imposing such dress codes. The “no sando, etc” could have been born out of an attitude of excluding the poor-who-cannot-afford and the dirty-who-may-soil-our-merchandize from loitering in a venue that’s clearly not meant for them. Is this attitude “hoity-toity” and “snooty”? Or seen in another way, is it just being “practical” (the thinking behind it being: just to play it safe, let’s discourage people who have no chance of doing business with us from entering)?
Here’s a different perspective on dress codes. In Marikina City Hall, no one—employee or visitor alike—is allowed to enter wearing slippers, shorts and sando. No matter how poor you are, if you have any business to transact in City Hall, you must dress up. You need not dress up to the nines; plain sneakers and a plain t-shirt will do.
The reason behind it is simple: to teach people—employees and public alike—to respect the institution by forcing the change to first start from the outside. This idea is also the insight behind that by-now famous book Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell: changing the environment can also change the behavior of the population.
So is it “wrong” then for the Marikina City Hall to enforce a dress code? Obviously the difference in the two examples is in their intentions. One seeks to exclude, the other seeks to effect positive change. One is seen as negative, the other looks positive on the surface. Will a positive intention justify a rule?
Okay, that’s enough. I’m getting a headache already. And I’m not sure if this is funny or entertaining to read at all.
I’m going out to dinner now.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Why Is There A Dress? (a.k.a. Dress-crimination)
I met up with Migs the Manila Gay Guy, Air in G, and other bloggers and non-bloggers last night. Migs asked me what I thought about the Inday Garutay and Aruba incident. It was my answer that inspired the title of this episode of The McVie Show, Season 5 and counting.
To be honest when I gave my answer last night, I was just blurting out things at the top of my head. But after mulling things over, I decided to write my thoughts down. Here they are.
* * * * *
For those who don’t about the Aruba incident, a quick recap: Inday G, an out-and-proud gay celebrity, attended an event in Aruba Bar in Metrowalk. He came in drag. Unfortunately the bar had a “no cross-dressing” policy. So even though he was already inside the bar, the staff went up to him and asked him to step out. Of course this angered Inday, but he was ejected from the bar nonetheless. So he sued the bar, and in subsequent interviews in the media he decried Aruba Bar’s discriminatory stance against gays. I think several gay organizations also spoke up in defense of Inday, and also lambasted the “no corss-dressing” policy of Aruba as “anti-gay” and “discriminatory.”
I think this was an incident that was badly mishandled by the Aruba Bar management. I’ve never been to the bar but I was told that there is a sign on their wall informing the public of their “no cross-dressing” policy. It should be displayed properly and clearly; otherwise, the customers aren’t to blame if they didn’t follow the policy. Plus, why did their doorman allow Inday to enter in the first place? The staff at the entrance should have enforced their rules. Clearly there was negligence on the part of the Bar to inform Inday of their policy as well as to enforce their policy at the entrance. If I were their manager I’d just allow this one incident to pass.
However, I think Inday’s reaction—calling this incident a case of “discrimination against gays”—is the equivalent of The Gay Who Cried Wolf. Aruba’s policy of “no cross-dressing” should not be seen as discriminatory against gays in general. (This attitude should still apply even if we do find out that, indeed, the Aruba management came up with that policy specifically to prevent gay cross-dressers from entering their establishment.) I believe that policy discriminates against cross-dressers, whether they be gay or straight. In other words, if Brad Pitt were to attempt to enter Aruba Bar wearing a skirt, he should not be allowed entrance either. This whole issue should be about a dress-code issue, not an anti-gay issue.
Insisting that the “no cross-dressing” policy is anti-gay presupposes that only gay people cross-dress. That is not true, especially in this day and age; I know of a straight male (a former officemate) who wears skirts to parties. Corollary to that, it also reinforces the notion among straight people (especially those with limited exposure to gay men) that all gay men cross-dress. Now, isn’t that reinforcing a gay stereotype? Aren’t the efforts of all these pro-gay group aimed at eradicating stereotypes? Inday’s actions then are a step backward, not forward, towards eliminating gay stereotypes.
Besides, there is an obvious proof that Aruba Bar doesn’t discriminate against gays in general. I’m pretty sure that so many pa-mhins and They-Who-Call-Themselves-Bi have gone in and out of Aruba Bar with impunity. In fact, I know of a top executive of a leading network who celebrated his birthday in Aruba Bar; aside from celebrities, many of his guests were out-and-proud gay folks—producers, designers, and even production assistants. Their obvious swishy demeanor and high-pitched vocal histrionics are dead giveaways: they are indubitably G-A-Y. But were they turned away at the entrance? Hell, no. That’s because none of them were wearing a dress.
The problem arises when gay people try to appropriate certain behaviors, actions or attitudes, and insist that all these are “gay qualities”; ergo, to be against these behaviors, actions and attitudes is to be against gays. If there’s one thing that defines being a homosexual, it is only this: given a choice, we will always prefer to have sex with people of the same gender. All the rest—the bitchy attitude, the lisps, the keen fashion sense, the near-universal love for Madonna and Barbra Streisand, the fascination for beauty contests—they are not what define gay people. Because I know of several straight men who happen to like listening to Streisand; I am also a gay man who, for the life of me, does not have nor will ever have the Miss Universe “gene” in me. Does loving Streisand make a guy any less straight? Does ignorance of who the winner was in the 1967 Miss Universe pageant make me any less gay?
We’ve been fighting for years to break out of stereotypes. Please, Inday, don’t pigeonhole us. Besides, in the universe of all gay men only a small portion actually cross-dresses. Please, Inday, do not speak on behalf of the majority who are not fond of wearing taffeta. In the meantime, I will defend your right to cross-dress, just as I will defend the right of Brad Pitt to wear a skirt—preferably very, very short and with no underwear underneath.
* * * * *
Going back to the dress-code issue, it is a fact that private establishments have the right to choose the kind of people they will allow to enter their premises. That means it is their right to discriminate, to be choosy. I see this as just a function of marketing and economics—if a bar wants to maintain a certain look or image, then they must have the right to impose limitations (age, dress-code, height, whatever).
So “no sando, slippers, and shorts” is as discriminatory as “no cross-dressing.” For me the bigger question is this: why do certain establishments insist on a dress code in the first place?
What’s more, if the public disagrees with such dress codes, then people can just boycott the establishment. If you’re a cross-dresser and you know you aren’t allowed into Aruba, they why insist on going in at all? Take yourself—and your money—somewhere else. Don’t insist on crashing into a party when you know you’re not even invited to it.
To be honest when I gave my answer last night, I was just blurting out things at the top of my head. But after mulling things over, I decided to write my thoughts down. Here they are.
* * * * *
For those who don’t about the Aruba incident, a quick recap: Inday G, an out-and-proud gay celebrity, attended an event in Aruba Bar in Metrowalk. He came in drag. Unfortunately the bar had a “no cross-dressing” policy. So even though he was already inside the bar, the staff went up to him and asked him to step out. Of course this angered Inday, but he was ejected from the bar nonetheless. So he sued the bar, and in subsequent interviews in the media he decried Aruba Bar’s discriminatory stance against gays. I think several gay organizations also spoke up in defense of Inday, and also lambasted the “no corss-dressing” policy of Aruba as “anti-gay” and “discriminatory.”
I think this was an incident that was badly mishandled by the Aruba Bar management. I’ve never been to the bar but I was told that there is a sign on their wall informing the public of their “no cross-dressing” policy. It should be displayed properly and clearly; otherwise, the customers aren’t to blame if they didn’t follow the policy. Plus, why did their doorman allow Inday to enter in the first place? The staff at the entrance should have enforced their rules. Clearly there was negligence on the part of the Bar to inform Inday of their policy as well as to enforce their policy at the entrance. If I were their manager I’d just allow this one incident to pass.
However, I think Inday’s reaction—calling this incident a case of “discrimination against gays”—is the equivalent of The Gay Who Cried Wolf. Aruba’s policy of “no cross-dressing” should not be seen as discriminatory against gays in general. (This attitude should still apply even if we do find out that, indeed, the Aruba management came up with that policy specifically to prevent gay cross-dressers from entering their establishment.) I believe that policy discriminates against cross-dressers, whether they be gay or straight. In other words, if Brad Pitt were to attempt to enter Aruba Bar wearing a skirt, he should not be allowed entrance either. This whole issue should be about a dress-code issue, not an anti-gay issue.
Insisting that the “no cross-dressing” policy is anti-gay presupposes that only gay people cross-dress. That is not true, especially in this day and age; I know of a straight male (a former officemate) who wears skirts to parties. Corollary to that, it also reinforces the notion among straight people (especially those with limited exposure to gay men) that all gay men cross-dress. Now, isn’t that reinforcing a gay stereotype? Aren’t the efforts of all these pro-gay group aimed at eradicating stereotypes? Inday’s actions then are a step backward, not forward, towards eliminating gay stereotypes.
Besides, there is an obvious proof that Aruba Bar doesn’t discriminate against gays in general. I’m pretty sure that so many pa-mhins and They-Who-Call-Themselves-Bi have gone in and out of Aruba Bar with impunity. In fact, I know of a top executive of a leading network who celebrated his birthday in Aruba Bar; aside from celebrities, many of his guests were out-and-proud gay folks—producers, designers, and even production assistants. Their obvious swishy demeanor and high-pitched vocal histrionics are dead giveaways: they are indubitably G-A-Y. But were they turned away at the entrance? Hell, no. That’s because none of them were wearing a dress.
The problem arises when gay people try to appropriate certain behaviors, actions or attitudes, and insist that all these are “gay qualities”; ergo, to be against these behaviors, actions and attitudes is to be against gays. If there’s one thing that defines being a homosexual, it is only this: given a choice, we will always prefer to have sex with people of the same gender. All the rest—the bitchy attitude, the lisps, the keen fashion sense, the near-universal love for Madonna and Barbra Streisand, the fascination for beauty contests—they are not what define gay people. Because I know of several straight men who happen to like listening to Streisand; I am also a gay man who, for the life of me, does not have nor will ever have the Miss Universe “gene” in me. Does loving Streisand make a guy any less straight? Does ignorance of who the winner was in the 1967 Miss Universe pageant make me any less gay?
We’ve been fighting for years to break out of stereotypes. Please, Inday, don’t pigeonhole us. Besides, in the universe of all gay men only a small portion actually cross-dresses. Please, Inday, do not speak on behalf of the majority who are not fond of wearing taffeta. In the meantime, I will defend your right to cross-dress, just as I will defend the right of Brad Pitt to wear a skirt—preferably very, very short and with no underwear underneath.
* * * * *
Going back to the dress-code issue, it is a fact that private establishments have the right to choose the kind of people they will allow to enter their premises. That means it is their right to discriminate, to be choosy. I see this as just a function of marketing and economics—if a bar wants to maintain a certain look or image, then they must have the right to impose limitations (age, dress-code, height, whatever).
So “no sando, slippers, and shorts” is as discriminatory as “no cross-dressing.” For me the bigger question is this: why do certain establishments insist on a dress code in the first place?
What’s more, if the public disagrees with such dress codes, then people can just boycott the establishment. If you’re a cross-dresser and you know you aren’t allowed into Aruba, they why insist on going in at all? Take yourself—and your money—somewhere else. Don’t insist on crashing into a party when you know you’re not even invited to it.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
A Series of Unfortunate Gays
Last year a gay showbiz writer was found brutally murdered in his home. Several months before that incident there was also a series of murders; all involved gay men killed in their own homes. The series of killings prompted speculations of a serial killer (or a gang) preying on gay men who lived alone. The modus operandi was frighteningly similar: the victim is often found totally naked in his bed and stabbed to death. No visible marks of forced entry, so most probably the killer was invited inside. But after the killing of this showbiz writer and the subsequent heavy news coverage that followed—including short news features on gay nocturnal activities that may encourage further serial murders—the killings stopped.
That was until yesterday when I received a text message from my friend at ABS-CBN. Joselito “Joel” Siervo, an executive producer of “Pinoy Dream Academy,” was brutally murdered in a similar fashion as the other gay victims. According to my friend Joel’s face was covered with a towel; otherwise he was totally naked. Plus my friend’s inside scoop was that there were some oils or ointment found nearby, stuff used for giving a massage. Hmmm… is this a case of a masahista murderer? The murder is still currently being investigated.
For me this case is made even more disturbing because I personally knew the guy. We weren’t actually close, just on nodding-along-the-corridor terms. But prior to leaving the network I was supposed to work more closely with him because a show of his was just recently assigned to me. But I resigned before I even found it necessary to save his number on my cellphone. Thank god; otherwise, I just might receive text messages from him from beyond!
This latest killing has again made the pink community—especially those in Quezon City where all the killings have occurred—to be on the alert again. But all the killer (or could there be killers?) has to do is lay low for a while; then we get careless again. I believe we should all take it upon ourselves to help stop these killings. How? By practicing safe sex—and I don’t mean just using condoms. We need to bring “safe sex” to another level.
So for those among us who live alone and are fond of bringing home tricks and pick-ups, keep the following in mind:
[1] Never bring home a total stranger.
[2] If you must bring someone home and you live alone (those without stay-in help, for example), always have a trusted friend whom you can inform that you’ll be having company. As much as possible do this in the presence of your take-home, so that he knows that someone else knows you won’t be alone that night.
[3] There are “massage parlors” that allow their masseurs to be taken out for “home service.” Avoid using home service; stick to doing it in the massage parlor. The masseurs themselves may not be the actual killers and robbers, but they may be part of a larger gang. Once the masseur is inside your house, he’s the key that will allow the gang access inside.
[4] Avoid street walkers like the plague.
[5] Just because you picked him up in a “reputable” bar or dance club doesn’t necessarily mean it’s safe to bring him home. Stick to a motel. If he doesn’t agree, then it’s safer to just cut your loss early.
* * * * *
So far the victims targeted all lived alone. It’s easier to kill them (no possible witnesses) then search the house for valuables they can steal.
Thank god I don’t live alone.
That was until yesterday when I received a text message from my friend at ABS-CBN. Joselito “Joel” Siervo, an executive producer of “Pinoy Dream Academy,” was brutally murdered in a similar fashion as the other gay victims. According to my friend Joel’s face was covered with a towel; otherwise he was totally naked. Plus my friend’s inside scoop was that there were some oils or ointment found nearby, stuff used for giving a massage. Hmmm… is this a case of a masahista murderer? The murder is still currently being investigated.
For me this case is made even more disturbing because I personally knew the guy. We weren’t actually close, just on nodding-along-the-corridor terms. But prior to leaving the network I was supposed to work more closely with him because a show of his was just recently assigned to me. But I resigned before I even found it necessary to save his number on my cellphone. Thank god; otherwise, I just might receive text messages from him from beyond!
This latest killing has again made the pink community—especially those in Quezon City where all the killings have occurred—to be on the alert again. But all the killer (or could there be killers?) has to do is lay low for a while; then we get careless again. I believe we should all take it upon ourselves to help stop these killings. How? By practicing safe sex—and I don’t mean just using condoms. We need to bring “safe sex” to another level.
So for those among us who live alone and are fond of bringing home tricks and pick-ups, keep the following in mind:
[1] Never bring home a total stranger.
[2] If you must bring someone home and you live alone (those without stay-in help, for example), always have a trusted friend whom you can inform that you’ll be having company. As much as possible do this in the presence of your take-home, so that he knows that someone else knows you won’t be alone that night.
[3] There are “massage parlors” that allow their masseurs to be taken out for “home service.” Avoid using home service; stick to doing it in the massage parlor. The masseurs themselves may not be the actual killers and robbers, but they may be part of a larger gang. Once the masseur is inside your house, he’s the key that will allow the gang access inside.
[4] Avoid street walkers like the plague.
[5] Just because you picked him up in a “reputable” bar or dance club doesn’t necessarily mean it’s safe to bring him home. Stick to a motel. If he doesn’t agree, then it’s safer to just cut your loss early.
* * * * *
So far the victims targeted all lived alone. It’s easier to kill them (no possible witnesses) then search the house for valuables they can steal.
Thank god I don’t live alone.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Splitting Ears
I can understand the use of earphones. Sure, one can choose to use them to block out the world, but in general people use earphones so that they can enjoy whatever they’re listening to in private, without disturbing others around them.
What’s funny is when the volume level is raised so loud that people in close proximity of the earphone-wearer can actually identify the song and maybe even sing-along to it. It kinda defeats the purpose of the earphones, right? I find especially embarrassing the following situation in a crowded elevator: everyone is minding their own personal space, keeping quiet and trying to make no unnecessary noise as possible… and here’s this one guy thinking he’s the only one listening to his music but actually everyone can hear the song blaring out of the small speakers.
What’s even funnier is when one realizes that the guy—this towering hulk of a man who looks like he can just pick me up with one hand and nonchalantly toss me out of the elevator just because he can—this, this… mammoth of a man is actually listening to Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing.”
Whitney.
(pause)
Houston.
(another pause)
Not only that….
“I Have Nothing”(!)
Hay naku. Next time ha, “I’m Every Woman” na lang. Para mas obvious, dah-buh?
What’s funny is when the volume level is raised so loud that people in close proximity of the earphone-wearer can actually identify the song and maybe even sing-along to it. It kinda defeats the purpose of the earphones, right? I find especially embarrassing the following situation in a crowded elevator: everyone is minding their own personal space, keeping quiet and trying to make no unnecessary noise as possible… and here’s this one guy thinking he’s the only one listening to his music but actually everyone can hear the song blaring out of the small speakers.
What’s even funnier is when one realizes that the guy—this towering hulk of a man who looks like he can just pick me up with one hand and nonchalantly toss me out of the elevator just because he can—this, this… mammoth of a man is actually listening to Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing.”
Whitney.
(pause)
Houston.
(another pause)
Not only that….
“I Have Nothing”(!)
Hay naku. Next time ha, “I’m Every Woman” na lang. Para mas obvious, dah-buh?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Ghost Stories – A Postscript
This evening while doing overtime work, I entered the bathroom on our floor. The lights switched on automatically as soon as I entered and triggered the motion-sensors. Immediately after taking another step or two I felt the hair on my right arm all the way to the back of my neck rise suddenly, seemingly for no reason. Or was there one? I didn’t stay any longer to find out. I immediately turned around and walked out.
I ended up using the bathroom on the third floor (where the 24-hr restaurants and the 7-11 are located).
Ugh. All these ghost talk about our bathroom is making me jittery in there.
I ended up using the bathroom on the third floor (where the 24-hr restaurants and the 7-11 are located).
Ugh. All these ghost talk about our bathroom is making me jittery in there.
Ghost Stories
In honor of All Souls’ Day.
[1] One morning about two weeks ago I was in the men’s bathroom on our office floor. I had just finished washing my hands and was just giving my hair a final check when I noticed a movement on the mirror to my right. It was something white, and direction of the movement was towards the mirror. But given the angle of my sightlines, that would mean that, one, the white thing was a reflection on the shiny tiles of the walls, and two, the figure would have to be moving behind or just beside me. But there was no one else there in the bathroom. I immediately skedaddled out of there.
[2] My brother’s wife came from a broken family; when she was in college, her father left his wife, son and three daughters for a woman just a couple of years older than his eldest daughter. And he stayed estranged from his wife and children until he had a massive heart attack this year. On his deathbed, he looked only for his children and wife; he never once asked for his mistress. Just before he died he made peace with his wife, who had to fly in from the U.S. where she’s now based.
Days after, my brother and his family would smell cigarette smoke in their house. None of them smoked except for his father-in-law (he chain-smoked Marlboros). Once the maid was sleeping in the living room waiting for my brother and his wife to arrive home from watching the last full show of a movie. She woke up to hear footsteps coming down the stairs. But when she looked up there was no one there, but the sounds grew louder and nearer. That’s when she shut her eyes and started praying. A couple of days later when the whole family went out, the maid was left alone in the house again. This time she heard the screen door open and chairs being pushed around upstairs. She stayed in the garage until the family came back. Only when my brother’s mother-in-law left for the U.S. did the strange sounds and the smell of smoke stopped.
[3] The scariest thing for me is something that was just told to me. It happened to a friend of mine and this was her story: One evening she couldn’t sleep. She tried reading, counting sheep, even drinking milk, but nothing worked. So she decided to pray the Hail Mary over and over again, hoping the monotony would put her to sleep. It didn’t. In fact, the more she prayed the more she stayed awake. But she couldn’t stop praying; slowly she realized she could hear, faintly but clearly, another voice praying along with her. When she listened closer, it was a male voice saying the words just a beat or two behind her in a mocking way: Hell merry, fool of grays…. When she realized that, she got so rattled she prayed faster and louder, trying to block the voice out. Eventually she got so tired she fell asleep; she didn’t even remember nodding off.
A few years later I heard a similar story, but this involved two girls and a loony mocking them with the Hail Mary. I’m not sure now if it was her story that came first and had evolved, or if it’s the loony story that came first then she heard it and, in turn, it became the subconscious trigger that made her “imagine” this demonic voice taunting her. To this day she swears she heard a voice, though she now acknowledges the possibility that she just imagined it and believed that it was real at that time.
And what is your ghost story, mga multong bakla?
[1] One morning about two weeks ago I was in the men’s bathroom on our office floor. I had just finished washing my hands and was just giving my hair a final check when I noticed a movement on the mirror to my right. It was something white, and direction of the movement was towards the mirror. But given the angle of my sightlines, that would mean that, one, the white thing was a reflection on the shiny tiles of the walls, and two, the figure would have to be moving behind or just beside me. But there was no one else there in the bathroom. I immediately skedaddled out of there.
[2] My brother’s wife came from a broken family; when she was in college, her father left his wife, son and three daughters for a woman just a couple of years older than his eldest daughter. And he stayed estranged from his wife and children until he had a massive heart attack this year. On his deathbed, he looked only for his children and wife; he never once asked for his mistress. Just before he died he made peace with his wife, who had to fly in from the U.S. where she’s now based.
Days after, my brother and his family would smell cigarette smoke in their house. None of them smoked except for his father-in-law (he chain-smoked Marlboros). Once the maid was sleeping in the living room waiting for my brother and his wife to arrive home from watching the last full show of a movie. She woke up to hear footsteps coming down the stairs. But when she looked up there was no one there, but the sounds grew louder and nearer. That’s when she shut her eyes and started praying. A couple of days later when the whole family went out, the maid was left alone in the house again. This time she heard the screen door open and chairs being pushed around upstairs. She stayed in the garage until the family came back. Only when my brother’s mother-in-law left for the U.S. did the strange sounds and the smell of smoke stopped.
[3] The scariest thing for me is something that was just told to me. It happened to a friend of mine and this was her story: One evening she couldn’t sleep. She tried reading, counting sheep, even drinking milk, but nothing worked. So she decided to pray the Hail Mary over and over again, hoping the monotony would put her to sleep. It didn’t. In fact, the more she prayed the more she stayed awake. But she couldn’t stop praying; slowly she realized she could hear, faintly but clearly, another voice praying along with her. When she listened closer, it was a male voice saying the words just a beat or two behind her in a mocking way: Hell merry, fool of grays…. When she realized that, she got so rattled she prayed faster and louder, trying to block the voice out. Eventually she got so tired she fell asleep; she didn’t even remember nodding off.
A few years later I heard a similar story, but this involved two girls and a loony mocking them with the Hail Mary. I’m not sure now if it was her story that came first and had evolved, or if it’s the loony story that came first then she heard it and, in turn, it became the subconscious trigger that made her “imagine” this demonic voice taunting her. To this day she swears she heard a voice, though she now acknowledges the possibility that she just imagined it and believed that it was real at that time.
And what is your ghost story, mga multong bakla?
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