His name is caffeine fix in dreary mornings
Devilish glint in his soulful eyes
soft spoken, arrogant
body sculpted to perfection
I am giddy, hungry, shivering
look at me not through me
he doesn’t even know me
***i wrote this piece after diving with an uber cute/uber sweet divemaster in Batangas about three years ago***
Friday, August 20, 2010
**transferred from my friendster blog (which am closing down)***
October 1, 2005
Wanted to go downtown for a supposedly nice afternoon by myself…
Was visualizing a relaxing foot scrub at the salon with my favorite latte…
I was suppose to fall into a dreamless sleep as soon as my fat ass parked in one of those "couch like" chairs and wake up with my feet feeling clean and fresh…
I did go downtown…i did go for a foot scrub with my favorite latte…i did fall asleep as soon as my fat ass sat in one of those chairs…and i did wake up…
Woke up with my eyes big as saucers (which seldom happenes since i’m chinky eyed…)as soon as i felt the blade slice through my tender skin!!! my scream almost escaped my lips from the searing pain (but through the painful haze i was able to remember that i was in a public establishment hence the muffling of the scream).
I looked at the "culprit" (the now i realize "clueless" scrubber) with my saucer eyes wishing to high heavens that looks could really kill. I fought the urge to kick her face "in" her skull, in fact i imagined myself doing it and saw her face break (with blood running down her face) which gave me kinda feeling of satisfaction…
What amazed me, to my dismay, is that, the culprit didn’t feel the need to apologize or appear remorseful…she kept on telling me and everyone who would lend an ear, how my bunched up skin appeared like corn to her and so she went ahead and mutilated my feet!…she even went as far as suggesting that it was just a scratch and that it was nothing to worry about! whats worse is, i had a nagging feeling that she thought that i was over-reacting to, in her view, a "slight scratch". Slight scratch my ass!!! when blood was dripping all over my feet! (Ok…ok…maybe it wasn’t really "dripping"…but the blood did took awhile to stop…)
The culprit pretended to care and fetched some antiseptic…but then, when she applied it on the wound, she was pressing so hard on it that you couldn’t draw my face even if you were Michaelangelo himself! I was grimacing and moaning like hell and still she was going at it like the devil himself! I dug my nails at the arm rest lest i decided to jump her and scratch her eyes out with my talon-like nails! (actually i cut my nails short the day before, but "talon-like nails" sounded more dramatic…hehe).
Eventually, almost all the employees at the salon heard about the "mutilation"…it made me feel better that they looked at the culprit with biased eyes…apparently she had a history of bad uh, scrubbing (and they still had her on the payroll?!!!) its just really bad luck i fell under her care, or myabe i should say lack of it…
Some of the employees wanted me to formalize my complaint so they can do something about her…but i decided against it, because i also didn’t want to be the "cause" of her loosing her job, i mean, i’m not that cold-hearted…what if she has ten kids to feed you know?
But then i thought, what if she does it again? you know? mutilate some other innocent client who just wants a quiet saturday afternoon with a relaxing foot scrub, and a latte…Hmmm…yeah, i think i’ll go back and formalize the complaint afterall…then i think i’ll go buy that pretty shoes i saw downtown…