A stranger on the bus gave me a pack of Bread Pan, which he says is his favorite. Maybe I did look hungry, but I haven't eaten it yet.
Despite my initial trust issues, we got to talking. He's this oldy American dude with Mexican roots who told me to scoot over the seat because he was getting off nearby. He's this private tutor who has worked in Makati for two years. He's this dad with a five-year-old kid he'll be taking to MoA in a while. He's this Beatles enthusiast who finds the vehicle's radio version of "Hey Jude" rather indistinct. He's this hopeful who buys a ticket to the Lotto everyday, and even won a few times.
He used to be this English professor in La Salle who taught during the 1980s. He used to be this TV personality who played a doctor in an ancient Bisolvon commercial. He used to dress up as Santa Claus in events for Nokia (the photographic evidence he had with him was laminated).
He knows he can get a bit too friendly sometimes.
He thinks I'm half-Chinese. He thinks I look mature for my age (must be the formal attire). He thinks I went to college when I was 16, and even did the math for me. He thinks my name comes from a vegetable.
He gave me his cell number and didn't ask for mine (whew), giving me the option of surrendering to my paranoia or not.
I chose not to communicate with Professor Art further, since my parents drilled the "Don't Ever Talk to Strangers!" lecture into my skull again. Fine, that makes sense. But still, to random occurrences, :)
* * *
( Because it's that time of the year )
Hibernating at:: Oh Fish! (Belvedere Tower)
Feeling::
amused
Listening to:: Conduit for Sale - Pavement
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