Here's a series of Funny Stories.
This morning, as I was walking to the highway I happened to meet one of my neighbors, this lady I usually buy binignit from in the afternoons just after work when the sun was high and the heat was ultimate. On this particular morning, she was looking rather pensive, and I decided that this wasn't especially because I was an hour late for work.
But I was a nice - if creepy-quiet - neighbor, and I didn't neglect my neighborly duties. Plus, she had a really hot daughter and being nice to the mom wouldn't hurt.
So I said Hello.
She nodded at me with a slight grimace. Yep, something was up. Did someone, God forbid, knock up her daughter?
No. "I lost a pig last night. I bought a piglet, and sometime during the night, she managed to slip out of the gate. I'm looking for her now."
A Piglet. Right. From junkyard car geeks to people who raised piglets. This is what the quality of my neighborhood has degraded to. My only regret is that I can't relate her words in the native tongue, since my Cebuano is limited to asking for directions, price, and the occasional cuss word.
At the spot in the highway where I usually wait for the jeep that takes me to downtown CdO, there is a House. This House houses a house, a small sari-sari store, and this empty-looking pen. Or so it appeared.
One day, I was rather surprised to hear a lot of angry-sounding screeches coming from the pen.
Now, some background on my upbringing - I was never brought up anywhere near a slaughterhouse, much less a place that housed live pigs, so I wouldn't know what a screeching, grunting pig would sound like.
So imagine my Surprise when, upon staring over the bamboo fence inquisitively, I find myself face to face with the largest, fattest barako I have ever seen.
But apparently, my Surprise was nothing compared to the pig's. After seeing my mug from over the fence, the damned thing shut it's trap and just stared, probably thinking jeezus this is the guy who'll be eating me up later and oh my god will you look at the size of him how the bloody fuck will I ever survive the chewing from those jowls so god help me. Is there a god? If there is a god, why am I stuck here braying and screeching like a wild pig, pardon the expresson, while animals like HIM and my OWNERS are free to wander about like animals in the vast urban jungle? I mean, back in my day . . .
And this tirade would go on up to the wee hours of the night. When the poor creature was finally knocked out of his senses by a swift, spiked club to the forehead. And if that didn't do him in, I'm sure the gutting, chopping, and cooking would do the trick just fine.
Stay tuned for another Funny Story folks! Hang on to that cigarette, don't change that dial 'cause we'll be right back with more action-packed edge-of-your-seat stories.
Okay, Maybe Not.