rowlandanthonyimperial
Friday, December 14, 2007
00:55
Imaginations.
IMPORTANT
Do not accept if open, torn or tampered with. Please carefully follow the instructions inside.These were the words I first saw when the kind woman handed me the BPI Express Teller envelope.
"There is a website written in this envelope. Go to this website to check your account balance for free," the woman gleefully instructed.
I smiled. Thanks, I replied. At first I was barely looking at the envelope, for I was busy scrutinizing her crimson-coloured belt which hung loosely under her chest. "Why do women nowadays wear their belts so high," I wondered. Don't tell me they're afraid of 'being hit below the belt', as what boxing referees kindly remind to beefcake-looking boxers before a fight.
***
"
No hitting below the belt," a stout, double-chinned Caucasian man with a black bowtie advices the woman in front of me.
"
Why?" I asked. My dad looked at me with astonishment.
"
Because when you inquire your account balance at the ATM Machine, your balance will be deducted," she answered.
"
Checking it online is much better," my dad responded.
"
Huh? What?" I was getting confused.
"
Because the International Boxing Federation prohibits boxers from punching their opponent's family jewels, mate. You don't wanna go being unable to produce ya babies right after a match, do you?" the fat man snorted.
"
Yes, you heard him right," the woman said.
"
Excuse me?? Of course I wouldn't want to!" I exclaimed.
"
Mind your manners!" my dad shouted.
"
It's okay, Mr. Imperial," the woman told my dad, with a forlorn look on her face, and a sense of disgust for the imbecile child he had brought into this bank office.
"
It's okay, kid. Chill! You wanna be a boxer?" the fat man asked.
"
I don't want," I answered.
"
But it's a good job! You earn millions!"
"Rowland!""I don't want.""Hey, I thought Filipinos love boxing? C'mon! I'll help you!"
"Um, excuse me-""Rowlaaaaaaaaaand!!!!!!!!!!!""I said I don't want!!!!!!!!!!!!!"My dad slapped me hard. Very hard. I fell on the floor, like a rundown Garuda Indonesia plane crashing into the ground, helpless, powerless. I quickly glanced at a teardrop flying in midair, in a downward motion slower than mine, for I fell into the fuschia-coloured tile floor first. I heard a loud thud, like the sound of thunder directly beside my ears.
I saw blood. I felt pain. My eyes closed.
I heard screams, especially a very distinct scream, which actually sounded more like a squeak, which came from the fat man. I saw fast-moving feet, in a shuffling manner. There was a commotion, I was very pretty sure about it. People were murmuring and talking to themselves, as if they were gossiping about me. Well, they were. They sure were.
I could not find the voice of my dad... until...
"
Anju! Uy! Anju! What is happening to you?"
"
Ha??"
"
You have been staring at the ceiling for quite some time now. Any problem?"
"
Oh.. um... uh... no.. not at all. I'm fine..."
"
Hahaha. It's okay. Okay, anyway, as I was saying earlier, you can go to this website to check your account balance for free. You have an internet access at home, I suppose?"
"
Yes, yes, we have. Well then, thank you miss."
"
Sure, no thing. Okay, thank you for opening an account with us. You can just call our branch for any other queries you might want to ask."
"
Thanks."
***
Stop imagining, rowland.
