What Pepe Learned from Mama Nature

One day on his way home from school, Pepe sensed a tingling inside him. It was undoubtedly his bladder frantic for a fluid release.

Despite being an expert in resisting bathroom urges, Pepe decided to answer the call. Like a heartless honcho, he stepped inside a restaurant, ignoring the security guy who greeted him with an overdone smile. He headed straight to the men’s room where he expelled all the piddle down to the last sparkling drop. Then he heaved a deep sigh of gratification and could swear that after he had done so, he heard his bladder give a much deeper sigh. Happily, he zipped himself up and walked out of the cubicle, feeling ready to go home tingle-free.

But the moment he stepped out, he froze like he just looked into Medusa’s eyes. At the mirror stood a poorly dressed figure that looked like a noncitizen of planet Earth. Still frozen, Pepe realized that what he was looking at was not an alien at all, but a live human species—an old woman. Completely appalled, the woman was unable to continue her lipstick application. She became as rigid as Pepe, and for a while they stood there looking each other in the eye. Beads of cold sweat started to form on Pepe’s forehead. His pulse began to quicken, his pupils started to dilate, and his knees felt like they were going to give way.

“You’re Mrs.—” He was unable to finish for the shock of knowing the woman’s identity overcame him completely. She was Mrs. Beastie, the school principal.

“You! What in blazes are—” The old woman also could not finish her words for clearly she was scandalized. She could not come to understand what a boy was doing in a women’s toilet.

Finally she opened her mouth and said something very kind. “You perverted little brute! What do you think you’re doing? This is a women’s toilet, for crying out loud!”

Pepe froze even more, unable to think of a smart reply. The walls seemed to be laughing at him. Time seemed to have stopped ticking. All he could do was say an embarrassed sorry and hurry out, away from that old beastly lady.

Unlike the way he came in, Pepe went out with his face bent downward. The humiliation gripped him severely and made him sweat in all places. Pepe felt the security dude’s eyes fix on him as he dashed to the door. For sure, the dude was still wearing that weird, contemptuous smile.

Pepe could not believe what had happened to him in that hellish lavatory. He wanted to punch his bladder, or take it out from down there, but there was no way he could do that without hurting himself. “I wish I didn’t have a hysterical bladder,” he thought.

The incident had obviously scarred his pride. Never in his life had he made such mortifying mistake. He had always been good at his expertise, but apparently mama nature didn’t like being neglected. Realizing how she had hit back on him, Pepe promised never to brush her off when she called.

The Because to All Whys

My head trainer at work asked the group of new trainees, which I am one of, to write a short essay on the subject of relationship. Here is the product of my self-prodding:

Since the beginning of my youth, I have always been bombarded with questions with respect to my current relationship status. It has always been a mystery to many why in my ripe age I am a still lacking a partner. The fact always makes me frowned upon, as though I'm a kid who stole something from a candy shop.

I remember one day on my budding days, I had a serious realization about the subject of relationship. Back then, most of my friends were already into individual relationships. They were either in their respective relationships or in the process of having one. This surprised me like crazy! I grew up as a boy knowing that relationships are allowed only after one marches down the aisle to receive his diploma. And at such period all I knew was that having a crush is as far as a teenager could get. But it seemed like there was something more to such fancy and it made me think if it was ever right to have a girlfriend that moment in time.

One of my uncles had something to say about this. It took just one statement from him to answer my perplexed mind. Without any complication or sophisticated words, he simply said that a relationship is a preparation for marriage. As he said those words, all of a sudden,  the idea became as clear as crystal. He was right! How could I be ready for marriage when I couldn't even understand love? How could I have a relationship, when I was still getting money from my parents and not from the sweat of my own brows? 

Right then and there, I made it my firm principle to avoid a commitment until I'm man enough to stand on my own and support all the way the girl truly destined for me. Over and above, I believe in waiting--that if we just wait long enough and hard enough, the thing that we long for will come to our doorsteps at just the right moment in time. For me, life is ultimately about waiting and I believe that we are all programmed for someone whose hair shall turn gray with ours. Since the day of our conception, we have already been matched with somebody to love us until the end of time.

And while I feel no conviction of making a step forward to love, I will enjoy whatever I have with me. I'm 20 years old, full of ambitions. My priorities are mainly to improve myself, help my country, and simply become a better person. 

When the time comes for me to finally move to the next part, I will probably have a stable income, a car, and a house to bring home the girl truly and rightly made just for me.

Pilot

Today marks my return to the blogging world! (Gee, I can hardly remember how long I have been on hiatus.) 

After much wrestling, my heart and my head finally agreed that I open a blog again. And so here am I, all set for this online affair. This blog will basically consist of some of the occurrences in my life. I say some  because not everything is meant for internet broadcast, some things are best kept in a diary. Sometimes I can be happy, serious, or just random. I'll simply follow my heart beat.

So I guess there's nothing else left to say. I hope this is not too bad for a first post. I am looking forward to writing my next posts. May I be faithful to you, my dear blog.

P.S. I couldn't think of any good title for this post so I just entitled it Pilot, exactly like what writers entitle the first episode of a TV show.