It was a nice boxer shorts, and that I do like to wear nice, sometimes sexy, under wears… it maybe pricey to some—it’s 450 pesos, that’s one shirt—but then I am a single call center agent, who have no one to support, not to mention gay, 450 is nothing… but then, sure it looks nice, hanging there on the store, clipped on both side at the garter… but I don’t think it would have the same effect if it were already clinging on my flabby waist… perhaps then, when I was a few pounds lighter… my stomach, flatter… it will just be all too frustrating… that regardless how much I dance—my code to working out to make it sound tolerable—I am still flabby in the afternoon… funny, when I was young, everybody thought I am so skinny, my grandmother’s last mission in earth—as it seemed she made it so—was to fatten me up… too bad she had not live to see this day… this day that I am actually struggling to lower my weight…
I left the shop frustrated, having the money to buy the boxers but couldn’t… I shouldn’t… I thought I should buy myself a new bag… it has been a month since I bought my last bag—it was right after Ondoy, it’s a Girbaud bag—I know, it may seemed awfully insensitive of me to afford myself luxury when everybody is suffering, but I suffered too and the bag was my stress reliever…
I do love bags… nothing really luxurious like designers, but I do like bags… it’s my shoes as to Carrie Bradshaw or standing in front of Tiffany’s window as to Holly Golightly… If I feel stressed and frustrated, it is shopping for a new bag that lifts me up… but I went around the mall and had not seen a bag nice enough to capture me… that is a requirement for me, an item should capture me in one glance, I, after all grew up in the 90s, I have short term attention… I walk in a shop, go around, glance on what they have, if nothing catches my attention, I go out… I keep shopping that simple, I see something I like, I take a closer look, then buy it… Kitin would tell me to go look around first, I don’t do that… I don’t do window shopping… It sort of complicates things… having so many choices complicates things… so if I see something and it is in the budget, meaning I have enough cash on me to buy it, I buy it right there and then… no more looking around other stores…
I didn’t see a bag… I saw shoes… I hate shopping for shoes… mainly because I have freakishly small feet… more often than not, I don’t choose shoes, I simply asked the sales clerk if they carry anything on my size… and usually they don’t or they direct me to the ladies department or kids… the shoe I saw is a pink sneakers… I was eyeing a pink Chuck Taylor, but I was at Bench… I thought it will do but then again, there was the question of size… and as usual they don’t have my size on the pink… but they do with the yellow… 800 hundred pesos… good deal, I guess…
But just right before I was the exit the store, I saw this shirt… olive green with gold stitching… I have to have it, I thought, at the same time hearing my mom’s voice at the back of my head “you just bought a shirt earlier, and the day before, and the day before the day before…”, “So what!?” I answered, the sales lady looked at me discerningly… I took the shirt from her and went in to try it… It was perfect… it was for 350 pesos…
“Pants po…?” asked the girl…
Yah, I had not bought a pair since forever… but I remember I am wearing a size 30 pants… I asked for 1 for a faded, slim cut jeans… try it on… rather, I try to try it on… It made me want to cry… nice size 30 jeans no longer fit me… (I am wearing a size 30 jeans but I think through time it have loosen up so it is able to accommodate my body… just that my fly always rides down if I seat).
I decided to look straight and out of the store, out of the building… and get myself home…
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