Cheen Up, Twiz Your Body

Yes, we rarely comb our hair.

"I can't believe we're actually combing our hair," Rina said. "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.

"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.

What's Tact Got to Do With It?

Corporate drones may be many things, but tactful isn't one of them.

The person seated to my right accused me of being a virgin. I ignored her and told the girl in front of me that she's a blood-sucking vampire. The person to my left joined in the fray by saying that someone in the office was the same age as Tutankhamun.

I creased my brows. "Tutan-who?"

"King Tut, a long dead pharaoh from Egypt," replied the guy on my right.

"Oh."

"Before, I thought 'Siquijor' literally means land of the whore," said the guy seated beside me. He's European. "We're going there on Holy Week."

"You're in for a surprise," said the girl to my right. "Warlocks and mystics will be converging there next week."

He smiled.

Sister Karma, on the other hand, wasn't too amused. On our way down the elevator, we got stuck midway between the 12th floor and the 11th floor. Someone suggested we force open the steel doors. When we did, we found ourselves facing a concrete wall. Next to GMA's inauguration, it's the most depressing thing I've seen in my entire life.

It was then that we realized that we're trapped. There were seven of us in the elevator and we were sweating like hogs on their way to the butcher shop.

While I panic, the people I'm with seemed to be having the time of their lives. They were taking pictures of themselves, cracking jokes, and laughing like we're in a Bar Mitzvah somewhere in Queens.

When someone at the back declared a state of emergency ("Guys, I feel like farting"), reality suddenly sunk in.

The person in front of me turned around, then banged his hands repeatedly on the wall, saying, "Help, help! Let us out!"