Drunken Shrimps + Rumormongering = a DOSE of Strengthened Friendship

SCENARIO

Right after the storm and everything seemed to have been bright, breezy and okay, I decided to expand, explore and oh, well, save my soon to ail social life.

I decided to go out there, spread my wings and POSSIBLY meet people but not necessarily of the same wavelength since it was so darn hard to find this kind these days (Einstein, Aristotle, etcetera, where art thou?).

7PM, OUR SET TIME

Anyways, off with my story. It was 7PM and it was all set. ME and my bestfriends had gone off to Greenbelt for the last time as the CHARMED ONES (Power of Three, remember?).

[JIST : One of my bestfriends would be relocated to Cebu and it would take a while for our bond to be reconstituted, I mean physically.]

As Filipinos who do not (DO NOT, I mean)give high regard on time (because we view time otherwise) as usual, we weren't there 7PM sharp. We met an hour after that.

And so, we met, made our hugs, said our excuses for not being on time (though we kind of expected that from one another) and off we went to Greenbelt from Glorietta thinking along the way what we should be having for dinner since we all three were starving, dead starving...

DINNER OPTIONS, CAN WE HAVE A ROULETTE PLEASE and SPARE US THE HARD PART?

After a long fifteen minute stride from Glorietta to the stretched pavement of Greenbelt 3 and after strenuous consideration with the menu (to satisfy our oh so distinct tastebuds), ambience (we wanted to have the best out our money so we might as well use the place for our conversation-rendez-vous before we get to see Bridget Jones Diary 2) and our finances (money is hard to earn these days, so we better had to be wise spenders which I am good by the way), we decided to go to this place called MASA or MASAS I think. The ambience was nice...and so we assumed that ambience + reasonable prices = luscious and mouth-watering food courses (details will follow later). So MASA it was.

FOOD CRITICISM. This better be good, better be good...or else...

It took a while before we got to settle with our choices. We got confused with nilasing na hipon (my translation, drunken shrimps with puke) and sinigang na ulang (OUR translation, native shrimps drowning) but ended up taking the former together with Bicol Express (translation, 5-sliced-pork with beans in clutter) and crispy pata (translation, crunchy chicken leg [SIZE, hello!]). Pretty delicious and interesting huh?Well that was when you picture them all in your head. When it (the whole ensemble) got to us and was dined, served and eaten, it was pure disappointment with resentment on the side. We loved their refillable lemonade though. 80 bucks and refillable, God, they had messed with the wrong person!

FOOD CRITICISM (checked on my to-do list). RUMORMONGERING (RM 101, 102, 103, 104 and so on...) on the other hand, Hmmmmn...

While having our late dinner with that ethereal ambience (not even close, but'll do for that night rather than the sweat-induced-air outside) over that overly mundane ordered courses, we found refuge and comfort talking about people we had doubt with and simply not feel like going with and jiving with. Starting from somebody and eventually ending up with another person, somehow, it made our food more palatable than they were. A little of tingy experience of that person transformed that crispy pata from blunt to spicy and same happened to the other courses on our table - transforming our dinner to somewhat like a feast only meant for gods and goddesses in Greek Myths in a place called Mount Olympus, in this case Masa was THAT place. Nilasing na hipon (my translation, drunken shrimps with puke) was our ambrosia, our most loved appetizer (and main course!) for that night.

I never ever thought that rumormongering was that empowering. It brought wonders. I know it was wrong to talk about people's demeanors behind their backs, but hey, that was why it was labelled as a form of a guilty pleasure. And besides, it was not entirely rumormongering, it just sounded so flashy and so intellectual (hahaha!) when in fact we were doing an intricate analysis of gestures overlapped with grave emotional origin. (whew, that was hell of an excuse!)

BIG EMERGENCY

So after that mind blowing entertainment which we ourselves made out of some sick but fulfilling issues of ourselves and people that revolved around us, we decided to dethrone ourselves and leave Mount Olympus for a stupid and red-alert emergency and decided to get our butts working and made our feet walking to end up looking for some girl stuff (you know what i mean). This happened 20 minutes before the actual showing of the infamous Bridget Jones Diary 2. Take note that the movie was at 12 midnight.

Going on, looking still for that red-alert solution after paving those stretched roads, we saw and found ourselves under the saving glory of Mercury Drug. Finally getting a solution and some add-ons - pistachio nuts for later. So at 11:50 PM, we got back and were in the movie house.

BRIDGET JONES DIARY 2: THE EDGE OF REASON

This would have to be im my next blog!Promise, I will write about it.

AFTER MOVIE COMMOTION - Coffee Break + NUTS = handful of RUMORMONGERING (still in my to-do list, for the second time)

Gone are the entertaining hours with Bridger Jones and company. And so, we started to work and do the activity on what was written on our itinerary - coffee with some cakes and pistachio nuts we got from Mercury drug. It was around 2AM and people were still taking that after midnight fad, which was that coffee something.

We joined the coven. We were part of the fad that night. And coffee drinking became our money-leech, draining almost single penny and savings we got. It took us hours talking and observing people around us. There were drunken shrimps with puke or (puking) personified and 'let-me-go-im-not-drunk-acts' all morning and not to mention the 'havana trade' going on among foreigners and Filipino women taking advantage over these lust-induced men. Believe me when I say that it was truly a pretty interesting site to watch. I am not being judgmental, just laying down the facts of what this pair of keen eyes of mine recorded.

Getting tired (but not exhausted) from all these jam-packed commotion of our almost 14-hour-Greenbelt-excapade-lambasting-gimmick, we decided to raise our white flags, get home, kiss our parents good morning and get on the bed with our eye-bags tolling at us but with smiles antagonizing the pimples we got from that nasty surveillance.