Anyway, after waking up at 12.30 pm, I bathed and hit my laptop. I haven’t finished, or let alone started any article for my writing gigs. Tsk, too bad. I just browsed some blogs and shared some of my previously published articles.
I remembered I have to get my laundry, which was ready for pick up since last week. No, I am not that lazy to go get them, I just didn’t have the time. I work on a 12-hour schedule for my day job. For 4 days. And it can turn to 5 if I need to finish something.
So, I picked up my floral dress from my stroller (because my closet is already full of clothes. Dresses go into the stroller.). I wore my blue jacket over it since the dress has spaghetti straps. At least, I want to
look be conservative when I hear mass.
Off I went to the laundry shop, three blocks from my apartment. The woman in charged of the shift smiled and greeted me warmly. As she was preparing my receipt, she asked me, “Iglesia ka ba?” Translation: “Are you a member of the Iglesia ni Kristo(a religion)?”. I blurted out with a half-smile, “Uh, no.” I thought, it must be the dress.
I went back home to pick up my bag and I head to the mall, which is across the church, first. I needed to buy something. I needed a Bible. I promised myself I’ll go get myself one after I gave mine to my mom. She kind of liked it. It’s lavender with this glossy, zipped-on-the-sides cover. So, I happily lend it to her. She said it would be perfect for her prayer meetings.
After buying a dark blue version of it, my feet brought me to Booksale. So I fished and fished for more books. And I bought one. Yay. The title’s The Write Type. After purchasing my books, I crossed the street to hear mass and I was late. Bad.
On my way home, the guy who sat beside me asked me, (‘coz I was busy checking out my new book), “Do you do that often?” I cringed because he started a conversation. I hate having conversations with strangers. I was reluctant in opening the book when he showed up at my side. I blamed myself for going against my gut feel. He has this approaching look since he boarded the jeepney that I was in and it seems like he was thinking of something when he first laid his eyes on me. You know that feeling? A sense of discomfort crept in when he climbed the front seat with me.
To make him stop, I answered his question, “Um, no. Not all the time.” As I said this, I was hoping my tone sounded like I was closing a poor conversation. And I heard him ask that question again, “Iglesia ka ba?”. I asked myself if I did the mistake of choosing the wrong clothes earlier. I said a stern no and he just kept going with his questions. He asked me what my occupation is. I kind of said ‘um’ for 3 seconds. As a person who is
incapable uncomfortable with white lies, I found the word engineer escaped my mouth. I wanted to say that I was a writer. Then, I thought it would be weird. Writers don’t just show up in jeepneys, read in the dark, wearing a silky jacket over a floral dress. I’m not even half a writer. Nobody Only a few people read me. And I’ve been online eversince.
So, I found out that he was a network marketeer. That he lives near my apartment. That he once worked in a supermarket. That he is buying a car next year. That he is selling beauty and health products. That real income could be gained through networking. That even the rich delve into networking. That network marketers are looked up to outside of our country, but not in our country. That network marketers are like lepers here in our country (since they’re being avoided by a lot of people). That he is a mentor, leading other professionals, like engineers (he stressed this out), doctors and others. So there. He poses no harm. He was just a network marketer looking for his new member. People like them have this certain aura, which I wish I had too. I want to be a people person.
People-person professions usually make the money. I sort of wanted to have a passive income gig. But I’m an Epic Fail at marketing. I dislike conversations and convincing others and selling stuff.
I got off from the jeepney with a credit card in hand and a new character to look up to. A simple supermarket boy is buying his own car next year and I am an engineer and I still can’t afford to buy one. People who are in this kind of career amazes me. Their work seems so simple, but they get fat checks. Whilst, I have a complex job and underpaid.