tambucho-tales

PROWL

TITLE: PROWL
TAMBUCHO TALE #: 36
DESTINATION: BACLARAN
TRT: 20 MINS

I was attending the Roque-Amoroso wedding in the Village Patio that early evening. However, I had a very early call time at my friend's salon in Kamias that morning.

I was in a daze during the moderately quick trip to Baclaran from Talaba except for the momentary interruption when the passenger seated next to me reminded the bus conductor about his change. The latter asked for his destination yet the guy in black sando reacted he gave P100 bill. The conductor didn't seem to mind and just repeated his question. After a pause, he finally answered he's bound to Pedro Gil. The conductor continued, "Galing ka ng Naic, diba?" My seatmate nodded.

The next thing I knew, he turned to me and asked for my mobile number. I gave him a shocked look. That's it? Asking for my digits as if it were as normal as asking for the time? He echoed his all-important inquiry. I shook my head. He turned to the window as casually as he did when he attempted to obtain my contact information.

I was relieved that my bus stop was just less than 5 minutes away. That was downright uncomfortable.

That's just weird. Sure, he probably had reasons to be attracted to my fresh aura in low-cut brown blouse, plaid shorts, slightly wet hair and Kama sutra scent. And I was grateful for the unexpected ego boost.

But the romantic sap in me was hoping for some sort of engaging verbal foreplay like what I have experienced here. Or something insane like getting involved in a stare down to a fellow passenger while being surrounded by distracting noise and the manic crowd fighting for space. Then the guy would wordlessly hand over his phone so you can type in your digits. Then he'd wait for you to exit the train amidst the sea of commuters and invite you to a coffee date. Assuming that's possible between two straight people, of course.

It was Valentine's Day eve and, yeah, love must be in the air. But if he really wanted to score a date, he could have at least done something else. Or asked somebody else.

Labels: baclaran, bacoor, bus

posted by lornadahl @ 02:53