this was the weekend, i knew that. and people need their space. and yet, i hesitated not to drop in at my friend's apartment to post in his computer. this intrusion, i'll probably insist on doing while my computer is still being detoxified by my very fastidious computer repair guy.
and this afternoon, while waiting for my friend to gloriously finish a computer game that involved digging for some garishly colored gems - he couldn't possibly stop the moment i barged in for he was then in the penultimate stage to ultimate score land - his paternal grandfather, the one from batangas, without any preamble, just talked to me about his first love.
her name was elizabeth quinones. and he told me of a wet monsoon day in june when he was sixteen or almost sixteen. he, along with his already ailing father, drove all the way to manila to deliver two of their sufficiently fattened cattle to the abattoir. and how everything went out smoothly until one of the truck's tires blew up somewhere in laguna - binan, or los banos, i wasn't paying attention.
as he was jacking up the truck - my friend's grandfather continued his story as i feigned being interested in a lady's golf tournament on tv - a young lady, wearing a purple pant suit passed him by. "oh, she smelled like she just bathed in a spring hidden under a thick sampaguita bush," he said.
then he told me how he was dead worried if he smelled like a bull's fart to her. this when another car tried to pass by his stalled vehicle and she was forced to lean closer to his incapacitated truck.
my friend, looking pissed, came out of his room and announced i could have his computer then. as i got to his room, i heard him berate his grandfather for telling again his love story to another stranger.
"lolo, people don't care," i heard my friend said.
later, as my friend crashed back in to his room, he apologized for his grandfather. "demented," he described him.
then my friend told me how his lolo always tells this same "tired" story to any stranger who comes to their house. and that, he splashes himself with his cologne copiously after he was done with his story, the scent of the musky cologne pervading their cramped apartment for days.
