Yes, we rarely comb our hair.
"I can't believe we're actually combing our hair," Rina said, brushing her long locks. "After five long years we're at it again."
Jay quickly followed suit, using his fingers to rake his crowning glory.
Yesterday was a momentous occasion: a professional photographer was commissioned to take our picture. We had to comb our hair.
At half past one, we went straight to The Lounge where a woman with curly hair was waiting.
Rina approached the photographer. "Is this for the group pic or is it for the individual pic?"
"Both," she replied. "Sit down."
Rina promptly sat down.
"Okay," the photographer said. "Sit back and turn you head towards me."
Rina obliged.
A camera whirred. Click.
"Cheen up," she ordered.
"Sorry?" Rina asked.
"Raise your cheen like this," the photographer said, pointing to her chin.
"Oh."
Click
"Twiz your body," she ordered.
"Excuse me?"
"Twiz your body," the photographer replied.
"You want me to pluck my body?"
"No," the photographer replied. "I said 'twiz' your body," turning her body to demonstrate
"Oh."
Click.
"Lumiyad ka," the photographer commanded.
"Like this?" Rina asked, reclining her body like Marlene Dietrich.
"Wow," Jay snickered. "Parang Kama Sutra na Villa Estrella!"
Click.
"We're done," the photographer said. "You're next."
"Yes Ma'am," I replied nervously.
I sat down, crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.
Goodbye, Eureka
9 hours ago




