Just The Thing

It would've started "Once a upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"

It's the line from one of the short stories in Haruki Murakami's The Elephant Vanishes. I bought it from National Bookstore in Eastwood as my incentive to myself for another month (another payday). In short, wala lang talaga-- trip trip lang. I was just lured by "An elephant vanishes; hunger drives a couple to rob McDonalds; an insomniac wife wakes in a different world," printed at the back cover. I didn't realize at first that the book is a series of short stories (until I got a bit confused of the transitions and Raymond informed me that the book is indeed all shorts.)

Anyway, after dinner, I made myself a comfortable reading nook at the edge of the bed and started browsing the previous pages (sort of a recap-- a habit like watching the preview of an earlier episode of Monk or Prison Break). He was busy chatting with his officemates-- reading out loud, from time to time, the content of their popup messages. Then, he asked me if I would recommend the book I've been reading for two weeks now. I said yes, with a comme ce comme sa expression because sometimes I'm into the book and other times I'm not. But I have my favorite story, I confessed. "Kwentuhan mo na lang ako". So I started passing on some details. In my own version, of course. "Kwentuhan mo ako nung nasa book. Sige na..." This time, he was more adamant (you know when someone won't stop unless he gets what he wants? ); he even turned off the computer and sat beside me. Curious and begging.

So I did. I started reading aloud "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl on a Beautiful April Morning". He smiled. I was a little diffident at first because he might find the story sappy (BUT it's NOT sappy; sappy stories don't end with "A sad story, don't you think?"). Eventually, I got the hang of it-- pausing every so often to moisten my throat and modulate my voice. He would beam at times and make side comments, and I would continue my storytelling. It went on for half an hour, more or less.

"A sad story, don't you think?

Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her."

And that was what I told him. It was the first time I read someone a story-- word for word. It was awkwardly amusing. =)

*****
I also have my "own particular favorite type" of a guy (one with broad shoulders and tall, or clean fingernails and toenails; or who does not slouch when he stands or walks; or who sports mild perfume; or who can play the piano; or who speaks confidently but does not go overboard, or who plays basketball; or who can carry faded straightcut jeans and semifit tee nicely; or who eats a double-scoop ice cream cone like it's the last one he can have and yet finishes it neatly, without any drop on his shirt) and catch myself looking at him. But the liking stops there.

As for my 100% perfect man, he's unmatched. Basta...akin na lang yon. =)

Goodnight.