It was 5:00 pm. I shut off my laptop, fixed my table; I was all set to go. I was excited to go home on time. A rare occurrence since my boss was in a meeting and I won’t be held captive until 7:00 pm. Plus I was excited for the long weekend ahead, Monday being declared a holiday.
“Let’s watch Sex in the City!”
My female colleague beamed as if she has just thought a brilliant idea that could save humankind.
I smiled and shook my head: my polite way of turning down an invitation. I caught some episodes of the TV series, I kind of enjoyed the witty dialogues but I was not entirely sold out with the idea of watching it in the big screen.
“It will be fun, Cha will come with us.”
Apparently she didn’t get my nonverbal response as she was busy touching herself… err retouching. She was putting copious amount of baby powder on her face. The white powder covered her entire face, including her pupils.
“Sorry, I have other plans”
I said finally because no amount of vigorous head shaking would signal her. This time she was busy curling her eyelashes with what appeared to be a pair of pliers with dexterity even without the aid of a mirror. I have seen her do this countless times but it always made me cringe. I would always imagine that she could rip her eyelids and the dismembered part with curled eyelashes would end up on the floor.
“Ano ka ba. Don’t be such a KJ. Minsan lang akong nagyaya”
She fluttered her eyelashes. Content with her eyelashes, she put back the pliers in the kit and held out a lipstick. She lifted her mouth forward as if to suck an imaginary suso, she applied a red paint on them and then made a faint smacking sound.
“Sige na. Please come, I need company.”
She proceeded to pencil her thin eyebrows. She sprayed herself cologne in a swirling motion from the top of her head down to her body. The smell filled the entire room. She made finishing touches to her Gretchen-esque hair, the hair currently on the round this days. She zipped her huge Gucci bag. She was ready to go.
“O,
She put on a jacket over her turtleneck blouse. As if we're going to a place were there is entirely a different weather.
After playing hard to get I agreed to come along. Well, I could not say no to her sudden burst of generosity: she agreed to pay my movie ticket complete with starbucks frap.
We met her friends at Robinsons. I entered the theater in the company of women clacking in their vertiginous stilettos.
In the movie every time Carrie would appear in her dress or shoes or bags, I could hear their collective sigh. I could not understand why women have such profound spiritual affinity to shoes and bag. After the movie, they were so moved by the oeuvre that they engaged in unbridled shopping.
The movie? Well, I enjoyed my frapuccino.
They say the movie is about women empowerment. I wonder how a one and half hour commercial of Manolo Blahnik shoes would convey women empowerment.
