Monday, October 27, 2003

Moving Day

Am currently searching for something to paint today. Not having a good time of it though. My mind keeps wandering back to that woman. Bill collector? Landlady? Person of Indeterminate Importance?

She sent her lackeys three days ago to collect on Honey's unpaid "water" bills-- bills Honey "inherited" from the previous owner of her new unit, a relative. Honey spoke with our Person of Indeterminate Imortance (PII) and borrowed her ledger, duly making copies of the ledger entries referrring to our little bill-- some P2000. What we could not understand was why the water meter seemingly kept itself running when there was no one living in the unit since last year, when Honey's relations moved out.

There was talk of other unpaid dues besides water, plus interest-- all incurred by previous occupants when they were still around-- that have accrued over the course of the last year. Honey figured she'd get the details down on paper and pay for what she could, to stave off the buck-passing that was bound to occur. She'd confront her relative about the housing unit's magical accounting later.

Our PII then left us to our devices-- a trip to Pasay to collect more of our outgoing stuff. We returned the following morning to be warmly-- no, brusquely-- greeted with inquiries as to the location of the Important Ledger.

And There's the Rub

Honey had slipped the ledger into the grillwork in front of the window the evening we left for Pasay, figuring that the Nice Irritable Lady with Sooo Much to Do and Little Time for Fools would be back later in the evening, to pick it up. Even if we would not be on hand to greet her, she'd be able to pluck the ledger from the grillwork and everyone would be happy. Or so Honey thought.

Pass Me the Blame, Please.

I'd like to think that I was tired at the time. Honey had, after all, dragged me to Baguio and back on what almost became a goddamned fool's errand. I went to Rock & Register with her because she was bone tired but had to show up anyway. I picked up after the bands and the concertgers to facilitate a speedy wrap-up. I stayed by her as she partied at Music 21 (though I will admit, I enjoyed that) so she'd not have to burn out alone. I brought her to Cavite. It would only be natural, I'd like to think, that neither she nor I would have thought that leaving the ledger in the grillwork was probably a mondo bonehead idea. I know I was too tired to notice Honey slipping the ledger there in the first place.

As of presstime, Honey may still be searching for the building sanitation & maintenace man, who may have taken the ledger away. The night we left, we'd put empty bottles in plastic bags outside, right under the window (and the ledger), preparatory to selling them to the first person who expressed interest. The morning our PII waxed brusque, terse and "don't-fuck-with-me," our bottle bags had been moved to the other side of the airy corridor. I am too upset to properly paint because I cannot, at this point, help her with her search-- and this won't sit well with our PII, who will be back with her virago's tirade. And maybe even a righteous huffing declaration of "Hala! Sumama ka sa Presinto!" (loosley, "Ha! We're going to take this up with the Police!")

"Don't Pitch the Bitch"

I love women. Those who know me will attest to that. But I cannot abide by naggers and viragos. You've made up your mind to do something (or not to) and they'll be on your case 'til the day you die. And there is absolutely nothing you can do to shut them up. You can read your NLP manual 'til your eyes fall out, you can even practice your NLP with some proficiency. But when they get started pushing your buttons, you are at their mercy.

You can't even go Alpha Male on them. You're not supposed to. You simply can't hit them-- and I believe hitting a woman is wrong, even if she is a nagger-- despite the fact that hitting them may actually be the simplest, most satisfying, most elegant way to shut them up. (Yes, gentles all: everyone has his puerile, immature maladroit side.) You go up against a nagger and it's no win, unless you elect not to fight-- and she may not even let you take that option.

Worse Things

There are worse extant things than nagging women, of course. And high among these things is a mind-set that puts a premium on uncompromising moral ascendancy. "I am right. You are wrong. Because of this, you do not have rights. You cannot possibly have anything important to say. You will do what I want because I am right. Those are the rules."

to be concluded...

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