[In retrospect, with all due respect, again: September 28, 2012]
I could not recall anymore when was the last time I rode upon a jeepney to Miagao from the city. But I was certain it had been a long time already thus I was so uneasy when I rode one last Wednesday.
And from the original jeepney terminal at the Super, I took the front seat where, minutes later, seated beside me was a real looker. She got a face like a fairy or an angel, while her scent was like a mixture of wild orchid and a rare rose in the jungle. Her olive skin was like a glowing silky satin meticulously weaved and made from the finest Arabian linen. I was so sure when that damsel would turn into a full-blown woman, in the end, she would be chased and hounded no end not only by a few good men.
It didn’t surprise me when I wished unwittingly that my daughter would look like her in the future at least. But I took back that wish upon realizing that when the time comes, she would pale in comparison with my princess. But I liked her finesse especially the way she covered her neckline with her palm in her every twist and turn. I could sense trained attitude and good breeding of a child raised by Miss Manners though in riches she was born.
Halfway to Miagao, I felt on my left shoulder a little weight, and I saw the right side of her forehead leaning on it. And I saw beside me was a sleeping child, as despite those blossoming features of a lady, I still saw innocence so tired.
Since time immemorial, that was one of the classic examples of a man’s dilemma inside a public utility like the jeepney: When a sleeping lady passenger sitting beside him suddenly leaned on him unintentionally. If you’re a man and that happens to you too, what would you exactly do?
As you notice her slowly inclining herself on your shoulder, would you hold her face to keep her head from dropping down further, or you quickly move forward and let her fall behind your back and see her diving on the seat with her kisser? Remember, doing the first would be like risking yourself to be accused of being an opportunist if not a molester, while the second would reveal your ungentlemanly character, which, to me, is more inhumane thus a sin graver.
I didn’t know if it was prudence but I just let things to happen as they would do anymore. I held my ground and still sit straight just like I did on that spot many moments before. I didn’t know too if it was due to the poor shock absorbers of the jeepney or the poorer road asphalt overlay, as I felt her soft head dribbling on my arm muscle softly but too much exhaustion may have had kept her consciousness at bay.
As her fine-chiseled nose was buried right in my wet arm as if sweating a wax, I started to be conscious and could no more get to relax. I wasn’t sure what did I rub on my underarm after failing to bathe in the morning due to time constraint, was it Rexona in a sachet or just plain “tawas”? Worse, if my worst fear was correct that I instead forgot to apply anything in my underarm then because I was in a rush and in panic, I’d pity the girl for she would surely wonder, upon reaching home, where she had acquired asthma or why she would always sneeze and became allergic
I still let her sleep on my left shoulder. If her head would slip or fall, it wasn’t my fault but hers. I glanced at those lovely eyes wide shut and angelic face in deep slumber while I quietly sat. I said to myself that when a man loves a woman—he should do this one—someone who’s nice to look at and seemed to be allergic to spat.
Suddenly, her cell phone rang and I had another shock of my life when after only a minute, as she answered it, she blurted out in full volume a flurry of expletives. Wow! There went an apparently lovely angel, cursing and cussing like a street kid if not a devil.
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