Conversations With Peter Pan

I was consumed with work and preoccupied with my life. I felt guilty that I never asked how my best bud who is taking the bar, was faring along during his review. Last Saturday, before the first Sunday exam I called to boost his spirit.

Buti naalala mong tumawag. Nagtatampo na ako sa iyo.

Under normal circumstances, I could have given him an upper cut and told him to grow up and have a life. But he is taking the bar exam… again for the third time so I allow him to indulge in his own version of soap opera. Been there, I know the feeling: the mounting pressure could be a swirling vortex that could make you sick, nauseous, and make every food you shove into you mouth taste bland. Among many things, the first thing you need is a support group.

Don’t worry bro. bar ops kita for all Sundays.

In our fraternity, the barrister is King. In our language, bar ops mean, you become slave for him. You grant his every request and submit to his every fancy during the duration of the bar exam: What he likes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and you deliver them pronto; you pick him from the hotel and bring him to the testing center; or give bar materials and last minute tips. I remember during my time I asked for warm milk before bedtime and it was brought to my room. My friend asked for an inasal na manok for breakfast at 4:30 in the morning and it was delivered. One may ask for an ox testicle soup just for the heck of it and they will make a way.

After realizing what I just said, I wished I could take it back.

I was thinking of some inspiring words that could motivate him but I’m a lousy motivational speaker. Instead, I blurted out: “No turning back bro, give your hundred percent. Kaya mo yan. Kaw pa?”

Of course. Siguro kamatayan nalang makapigil sa akin.

Where did that come from? Did his entire clan turn their back on him? Is he taking the bar at gun point? Had I not known him better, I would be taken aback and harrumphed to his rescue for his suicidal remark or I'll be forever responsible. Instead I just rolled my eyes and wait for his litany of whines. This person has a doctorate in whining; he never takes responsibility for his mistake and failures. He is thirty, already with children of his own, but with a maturity of a twelve year old. When we were in law school, during bad recitations he would blame the professor for asking him a difficult question. When he flunked the bar he attributed his failure to Karma because of his father’s casino habits. I learned that didn’t talk to his mom for months; he deeply resented his mother asking him to carry a gallon of mineral water into the dispenser: a chore which involve minimum strength considering the measly 90 cm distance. This silent treatment between him and his momI learned later has its moorings from his mother snubbing his request to hear mass in Basilique Notre-Dame-des-Victoires in France before the bar exam. As if God is having His sabbatical in France and this was his only chance to meet Him.

Bro umihi na naman ako ng dugo.

I would be insensitive and ungrateful friend if I did not feel concerned. He damaged his kidney when he was shot in a frat rumble. He is still under medication and under stressful conditions, he would pee with blood. Last Saturday, I came to his hotel brought him cranberry juice and apples which the doctor says are good for his kidney and his favorite Hap Chan siomai.

Hope and pray he'll make it this time.