Exploits of a City Dweller

Excellent 79-73 win last Sunday. This is after much taunting, face-slapping, ball-kicking and foul after foul after foul. Only the best from an Ateneo-La Salle tug-of-war. Thank goodness we seem to be better at the charity line.

It is taking all my will power to not gloat. After all, karma is digital. Imperically speaking the UAAP pendulum is not just known for swinging both ways. It also has a tendency to run amok, swing in all possible directions before arriving at unbelievably disappointing conclusions. Last season, ADMU finished third after beating DLSU 3 out 5 times, foolishy losing a twice to beat advantage at a very crucial game. And that loss to NU?! Oi! 

The Red Warriors went on a clean 13-0 run to the finals. They seemed iron-clad until the green shirts snatched the championship from under them in the last two games of the season. I remember sitting in my livingroom slack jawed and incredibly annoyed.

Here’s a philosphy I will live by this season: root for any team able and willing to deflate Rico Maierhofer’s machismo balloon. May we collectively implore the high heavens for that boy to discover a little something we like to call humility.

Rabah, for Pete’s sake, stop it with the random perimeter shots already! Your killing us, seriously. And that rookie Ryan Buenafe will do great things, I feel it in my phalanges.

I smell a forthcoming season of bloodshed. I say we bring it.

Halikinu!!

Anyone see that sky yesterday morning? Beautiful, beautiful shade of ominous blue. No wind, just rain.

Did I mention I love the rainy season? It makes for interesting weather, the kind that heightens my senses in a very odd way (Sunny really only works for me when I’m planning a trip somewhere. I’m not so nuts about that heat). I get the same kick out of it as what I could only assume people get from rollercoaster rides (Let me note that I’ve never been on one. And if you offer to pay me big money to get on Enchanted Kingdom’s Space Shuttle of death, I would refuse peevishly. I honestly don’t see how the momentary displacement of one’s entrails could be classified as entertainment).

I know this could very well be misconstrued as self-centeredness. I, being sheltered from the elements, as opposed to people in coastal shantytowns. Or the ones who held Sulpicio Lines in such high esteem they decided to wing it despite PAGASA’s warnings.  

For some obtuse reason, typhoons remind me of my childhood. A probable upshot of being raised in Pangasinan. I’m sure Ernie Baron taught us well enough to know the province as a hurdle in the Philippine severe weather obstacle course. Whenever Gading or Loleng feel the need to stretch their legs, we suffer the brunt. As a result: two-month power outages, a phenomenon influential enough to make a kid forget the logic and purpose of a TV set. For weeks on end, the household would function on antediluvian tubig poso and candlelight. In the evening I fell asleep listening to casette tapes played on my walkman. The rest of the day I spent investigating faunae washed in by the overflow (to clarify, no corpses were ever found and the water is actually clean enough to wade in).

Good times, good times. You can see how tidings of an incoming storm can induce a bout of nostalgia. Or not. In which case you can put me down as an eccentric who finds mirth in the destructive forces of nature.

Phone rings.

A muffled voice initiates a greeting at an exceptionally slow pace. “Welcome… to… Skycable… customer… service…. line. If you are a postpaid subscriber, press 1. “

Beep. The little orange number appears.

One excellent way to waste cell phone minutes, listening to your service provider’s automated system.

“For customer service, press two.”

Beep.

I’m growing roots here.

“Please stay on the line while we connect you to a customer care representative”

Do I have a choice?

Finally after 16 pesos worth of muzak a representative gets on the line. “Thank you for calling Sky Cable, how may I help you?”

Thank you for calling? What does that even mean?

“Hi, good morning. I’m calling because my internet connection has been down over the weekend.”

“Can I have your account number?”

“Six. Zero. Four…..”

“Can I have your name?”

“Jane.”

Oh god, she’d better not make me spell my last name. Was it National Geographic or Discovery Chanel that recently put out a clip featuring the number of hours an average person spends on a certain activity during a lifetime? X number of hours sleeping. X number of hours eating. X number of hours looking for the remote. Well, I have an extra activity. I spend X amount of hours (a conservative estimate equating to a 4 digit number) spelling my last name to strangers. And X amount of hours (another 4 digit number) convincing said strangers that I am not Russian.

“Yes, ma’am Jane. How can I help you?”

Train of thought ends. “My internet connection has been down for the past two days.” 

I’m paying 999 for a nonexistent service!! Does the connection have to go down everytime it rains? Have you not heard of waterproof insulation?

“Let me check.”

“Ok. Thank you” You’re such a doormat! Yell! Scream! Sling expletives! Do something!

Josh Groban starts singing Italian opera.

I really should get a landline. Widen my social circle while I’m at it. Or maybe even be a lucky home partner at one of those noontime game shows.

Groban croons through the receiver.

Wow! Did she literally run over to Loyola Heights to check if the cables have been peeled off the ground?

“Thank you for waiting, ma’am”

“No problem.” I demand a reimbursement!!

“What’s the status of the modem?”

Status?! Its status is kaput!!That’s what its status is!! “Uhm…The PC light is on but the cable light keeps blinking. The send and receive lights are off.”

“Have you tried resetting the modem”

“Yes.”

“How about trying other computers”

“Yes.” When will this end?!

“When did the connection go down?

“Last Friday”. I’m guessing she’s made a hobby out of repetitive over-the-phone interrogations.

“Ok. I’m placing in a service request. Can I place you on hold?”

And we’re back to Josh. You brought this upon yourself! You’re a disgrace!

More muzak. More of my prepaid load down the drain. Yes, I have adamantly functioned on a prepaid Globe account for the past six years. My credit card bills have given me enough hernias, thank you.

“Thank you for waiting, ma’am. I’ve placed the request. Is there anything else?”

“No that’s it. Thank you!”

“Thank you for calling and have a nice day!”

“You too.” Note to self: keep a paper bag handy for when I call them again.

Thus explains my blog silence.