Chapter 1: The Scene Kid

Being a fan of Jason Segel, I watch “How I met your mother” whenever I’m on a plane. I think of it as a good way to avoid death by boredom due to the ridiculous amount of time it takes to go to the Philippines (8hrs at the minimum).  I find it funny and amusing and I am just amazed at how far they have stretched the theme of the show. Knowing that my future kids will probably hate me if I let them go through the same situation, I’ll shorten this intro and proceed writing how I met their mother.

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Back in 2007, I was a 21yr-old scene kid with shoulder-length hair and weighed around 50kgs. I wore skinny jeans and extra-small shirts to complete the look and wrote poems with themes revolving around love, hate, and the idea that all women are evil and all men are martyrs. I was addicted to online gaming and I spent all my restdays (including  hours before/after work) at internet cafes . I just recently discovered the joys of Karaoke and was one of those who had the patience to bear 4hrs of travel time daily.  My career was also at its peak and I was on my way up the professional ladder.

However, though it seemed that I was having the time of my life, attractive scene girls were difficult to find. Most of them wore too much eyeliner and some were simply trying too hard to dress the part. Working at a call center didn’t help either. A lot of my female officemates had the money to dress like mannequins of Mango, Zara, and Bayo. 

It was one September evening when a bandana-wearing lady passed by. I found her hard not to notice as that was the first time in years that I saw someone with a piece of cloth on her hair. It reminded me of that Judy Ann Santos movie where she was the daughter of the late FPJ. I had no chance to talk to her that time but I knew deep inside that I needed to get to know her better.

As days passed by, I was slowly going crazy over her fashion sense. She had these black rubber bands on both arms (around 20 of them on each) and she had a unique taste when it comes to the color of her pants. She often came to work wearing a hoodie and had these statement shirts that captivated me even more. There was also a time when she wore checkered pants that looked like pyjamas and she paired them with long sleeves and sneakers. I went home smiling that day because that was the moment I decided that she was the scene girl of my dreams.

After a lot of missed chances, I finally caught her attention. It was a Sunday night when I intentionally sat beside her. Not having an idea on how to break the ice, I desperately searched for a common ground. A simple “Hi” wasn’t enough for me. If that was the first and last moment that we’d talk to each other, then I had to make it worth the wait and the effort. Then, a breakthrough happened. Before my very eyes, the opportunity presented itself. On her table was a “Kikomachine” comic book.

“Ayos yan , ah.” I said.

“Oo nga, eh.” She smiled.

Butterflies.