Tuesday, February 13, 2007
the potluck
Joseph brought grilled ensaymada he bought from Red Ribbon. I didn’t join in, because Red Ribbon is not my thing, but half the party went gaga when they saw the box. Tina jumped up and down—it’s that bad. So did Gen, but she does that all the time, so it didn’t surprise us. Everybody loves Red Ribbon. Why that is so always bothered me. It’s confusing. I would think it would be the ‘Red’, because red is the color of most passions, from the murderous to the lip-biting. Or, at least for girls [and boys] who feel the need to accessorize with girly things, it might have a little to do with the ‘Ribbon’. I think maybe the food is good there, or that it is a place filled with personal memories, the same way churches should be filled with grand, collective ones. I imagine nostalgia Sundays in Red Ribbon, with pancit palabok sauce grazing the side of lips, wiped away by the thumbs of mothers still kind in their youth, who are at the prime of their caring and who are still far from obsession. They spend their time smiling through days spent with a version of you still uncursed by pubic hair and ambition, or the lack of both by choice.
Marty brought skewered and barbecued pork entrails, five silver trays of, steaming like hot bodies just rising out of sex. All the boys were delighted: a glass goblet was produced, filled to the rim with dark vinegar. Jericho chopped onions and fought back tears. Half the party laughed at him. They thought he was joking. Half the people here have never once chopped an onion in their lives; they thought he was mimicking something he saw on television. They were amazed, and I thought that was sad. Emong picked chilli peppers out of his pockets and a pair of scissors from the counter, and snipped the pepper into little red rings over the vinegar. Afterwards, he asked Nica to help him take a piss, because his chilly-tainted hands would burn him down there. It came as a surprise when she said she didn’t mind. What didn’t surprise us is that she asked her twin, Mica, to join her. The twins were sweet to each other and always shared everything. All three went up the stairs to the bathroom, Emong to piss, the twins there to assist. We never saw any of them again.
Darius brought pasta to the party, and sauces of different color: the red was tomato, the green, pesto, the orange had something we’ve never heard of, mixed with crab eggs and lime. Nobody wanted to try the pink, it smelled of something raw, like a slaughterhouse.
Marge brought the cola, Larry brought some beer, Edwyn brought the shandy, and Francis brought old cheese. Bob brought the gameboards, and his wife’s Magic Sing. The kids were delighted with Loman, who brought sunshine and a lawn they could play on. Ely brought us mountains we could trek through when we sobered. Harold had his eagles, and Eggie picked some stars. We switched off the lights and watched them shine for a while. The eagles hovered around them like planets, and were scalded when they flew in too close.
It was such a grand party
even if Bebang and Mike were disappointments through and through. The former brought world peace, which nobody really liked, the latter, his undying love, which was soggy, overcooked. Sophia, in turn, brought a friend with the ears of a bat, we told her we wouldn’t eat anything that looked mutated.
Things picked up when Daniel came with his pig. We had fun chasing it through the sala and bedrooms, breaking laps we wouldn’t pay for. She was a quick little thing, and she didn’t want to die. Lucky Gino had his machete, and luckier still, Robert brought his throwing arm. Ronnie had a bamboo pole in her knapsack, presharpened, and Allan had a fireplace already burning in his. Driving the pole through the pig was harder than any of us imagined. Fancheska said we were doing it all wrong, but she didn’t help out. The smells the meat made made it all worth the while.
The pig was roasting in the middle of the living room, and the rest of us were singing hymns to the animal we have killed and will devour, when Apple decided to plant herself in a corner and sulk. She had a worm eating at her core, but she did not tell Chico, who approached to see what was wrong. Instead she said they should stop doing this. She pointed all around the room, at the bacchanal, its dancing children, the glass shards on the floor, then she buried her face in her hands. We should stop doing this. Chico patted her back and blew softly at her neck. He knew her sentiment, but couldn’t agree with her less. It is such a grand party, thought Chico. There were dark seeds growing inside him, just waiting to sprout life.
¶ 2:33 PM Marty brought skewered and barbecued pork entrails, five silver trays of, steaming like hot bodies just rising out of sex. All the boys were delighted: a glass goblet was produced, filled to the rim with dark vinegar. Jericho chopped onions and fought back tears. Half the party laughed at him. They thought he was joking. Half the people here have never once chopped an onion in their lives; they thought he was mimicking something he saw on television. They were amazed, and I thought that was sad. Emong picked chilli peppers out of his pockets and a pair of scissors from the counter, and snipped the pepper into little red rings over the vinegar. Afterwards, he asked Nica to help him take a piss, because his chilly-tainted hands would burn him down there. It came as a surprise when she said she didn’t mind. What didn’t surprise us is that she asked her twin, Mica, to join her. The twins were sweet to each other and always shared everything. All three went up the stairs to the bathroom, Emong to piss, the twins there to assist. We never saw any of them again.
Darius brought pasta to the party, and sauces of different color: the red was tomato, the green, pesto, the orange had something we’ve never heard of, mixed with crab eggs and lime. Nobody wanted to try the pink, it smelled of something raw, like a slaughterhouse.
Marge brought the cola, Larry brought some beer, Edwyn brought the shandy, and Francis brought old cheese. Bob brought the gameboards, and his wife’s Magic Sing. The kids were delighted with Loman, who brought sunshine and a lawn they could play on. Ely brought us mountains we could trek through when we sobered. Harold had his eagles, and Eggie picked some stars. We switched off the lights and watched them shine for a while. The eagles hovered around them like planets, and were scalded when they flew in too close.
It was such a grand party
even if Bebang and Mike were disappointments through and through. The former brought world peace, which nobody really liked, the latter, his undying love, which was soggy, overcooked. Sophia, in turn, brought a friend with the ears of a bat, we told her we wouldn’t eat anything that looked mutated.
Things picked up when Daniel came with his pig. We had fun chasing it through the sala and bedrooms, breaking laps we wouldn’t pay for. She was a quick little thing, and she didn’t want to die. Lucky Gino had his machete, and luckier still, Robert brought his throwing arm. Ronnie had a bamboo pole in her knapsack, presharpened, and Allan had a fireplace already burning in his. Driving the pole through the pig was harder than any of us imagined. Fancheska said we were doing it all wrong, but she didn’t help out. The smells the meat made made it all worth the while.
The pig was roasting in the middle of the living room, and the rest of us were singing hymns to the animal we have killed and will devour, when Apple decided to plant herself in a corner and sulk. She had a worm eating at her core, but she did not tell Chico, who approached to see what was wrong. Instead she said they should stop doing this. She pointed all around the room, at the bacchanal, its dancing children, the glass shards on the floor, then she buried her face in her hands. We should stop doing this. Chico patted her back and blew softly at her neck. He knew her sentiment, but couldn’t agree with her less. It is such a grand party, thought Chico. There were dark seeds growing inside him, just waiting to sprout life.
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What is a grilled ensaymada? Bagong pagkain ba 'to? Parang wasabi ice cream or fried ice cream? Btw I havent seen you in a while. Kmusta?
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