Good Enough

Since my neighborhood is near two fast food outlets, I have become a familiar face to their staff. I'm not exactly perky and cheerful so I don't really go out of my way to engage them in small talk. In other words, my PR skills need brushing up. I think some of them, uhm, find me "mysterious" as a result. I sometimes catch them saying, "here he comes," when I push open the glass doors to come in.

Two summers ago, one manager treated me out to a summer-special fast-food version of halo-halo (shaved ice with mixed fruits), and then asked for my number later. Another manager would sit at my table for a short chat while I take my meals. One staffer on a different occasion offered another free halo-halo. Another one, who I greeted because I recognized him as a swimming regular at a pool where I used to swim, paid my food bill, to my surprise. I think these are not allowed. But I was grateful for the free treats, nonetheless.

One time, as a group of nurses made their way out, one gay guy handed me a slip of paper containing some girl's name and number. A matronly lady engaged me in small conversation, expressing her astonishment at my resemblance to a chinito manager. (Oh, come on!). Still somebody dropped something on the floor obviously to get my attention. He suddenly offered a handshake and introduced himself. (hala!)

And then a call center guy I have never seen before (I wrote something about this incident last year, let me just search for it) waited for me outside. Another guy (yes, guy na naman!) followed me from his Pajero as I made my way through the main street before I made a left turn towards my neighborhood.

But the incident which still astonishes me to this day happened inside a Starbucks outlet. An attractive girl suddenly approached my table while I was talking with Johnny Bravo. She introduced herself politely and told me frankly that she, uhm, admires me. She said she knew that I jog regularly and that I live near the area. Gasp! We exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet again but when I went to Baguio, I lost my phone. So perhaps, it wasn't meant to be.

I don't qualify as an "eye candy" by any stretch of the imagination. (The pictures speak for themselves, yah?) Don't give me that "strong-sex-appeal" line because I don't buy it for one moment, despite my fruitless attempts at putting a stop to my expanding waistline. So these incidents really surprise me.

One friend said, "you're not drop-dead gorgeous, but you look OK," which never fail to crack me up because it means "puede na" (good enough). The average-sounding "You're OK" is an explanation that's good enough for me. har har har