By Philip M. Lustre Jr.
(N.B. A netizen friend had urged me two or three months ago to write more personal vignettes to lighten the burden of reading the heavy political stuff and, of course the viral scourge. She was protesting of the perceived desolation of social media. I concur with her. But I told her writing this stuff is like doing theme writing in high school or grade school. But she was persistent. She won. The following is not only unforgettable; it was very, very embarrassing.)
LET me confess that I was a wicked son during my college days. I enjoyed partial scholarship. Hence, I was entitled to refund of the tuition I earlier paid. But nobody knew it in the house. Not my Lola Fely, not my Nanay Celia.
Whenever I had scholarship refunds, I squandered it without mercy. I lived for the day. I was a two or three-day millionaire. But nature has its way to catch up on our evil ways. Heaven has its way of getting even.
Let me start my story by saying that I was once an ebullient, exuberant, and excitable young man, who wanted to savor the beauty of life. Sometime in 1975, I received my scholarship refund, which was about P120. It was a tidy sum during those days. It could be the equivalent of P8,000 in today’s money or even more.
Of course, I splurged the money, buying personal necessities like a pair of shoes, a pair of pants, and a nice t-shirt, which I used in going to school. I treated a pair of friends to a drinking spree. Even during those days, I was a hard drinking buddy, who always saw the world winking at me.
But the greatest thrill was when I invited a comely classmate to a dinner at Max’s and a movie at Ever Gotesco Cinema, which were near the University of the East, where I finished my college education.
My classmate was a tall, morena beauty from the Ilocos region. Although she spoke with a thick Ilocano accent (cracker becomes crrrrackerrrr), she was caring, charming, – and bewitching. She was older by two years, but she was quite gregarious. She looked younger for her age.
Because I allowed her to copy my answers to some written assignments, she readily accepted my offer of special friendship. And she agreed to go with me to the movie house. She lived in a dorm near the school and I usually took her home even it was late in the night. Or perhaps, she found me quite irresistible.
After our 7 pm class, we immediately went to Max’s. I remember that we ordered a pair of half chickens, a bowl of pancit canton, and some rice. I was pretty comfortable I had money in my pocket. Sure, I had the dough and I dutifully paid the bill.
During those days, we usually paid our bills in coins. We had in circulation the big peso coin and the two peso coin with ten sides. We called them the Marcos coins. It was common to see people awash with coins.
Then, we went to the Gotesco cinema. But when I was paying the teller, I discovered that my money, mostly coins, would be insufficient to buy two tickets for balcony. If ever I buy the two tickets, I would walk going home.
I did not know what to do next. I was catch between the devil and the deep blue sea. I was a proud young man. Yet, I did not have the money, or I was a morbid case of a penniless Romeo. Since it was late to back out, I decided to do the unthinkable.
I bought two tickets for the orchestra.
Let me explain this issue of movie houses to millennials, who did not have an idea of the movie houses of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, or the pre-mall era.
During those days, movie houses in downtown Manila were bigger, but they were divided into three sections: orchestra, balcony, and loge. Each had its price tag; the orchestra, or the section below the two other sections was the cheapest. The loge was the most expensive; while the balcony had the middle ranged ticket price.
The balcony section was most notorious for its dark corners, where the action was. Dating couple found it most convenient for their carnal acts. There were plenty of kissing, necking, and petting among dating couples during those days.
The introduction of movie houses in the malls has changed everything. Movie houses were smaller, possibly one third of the size of the movie houses of the pre-mall areas. They have only one section.
Besides, movie houses of today follow strictly screening hours, much unlike in the older days, where there were no specific viewing hours. Anybody who had money could buy tickets and enter the movie house even the film was half way in its screening.
Back to my date, who was my dear college classmate. When she saw me that I bought two tickets, she was about to step on the escalator, which would take us to the balcony section. But I had to stop her to say that the tickets I bought were for the orchestra section. I saw the disappointment clearly etched on her face. I felt embarrassed, but hid any trace of it and pretended that everything was normal.
We went to the orchestra section. We did not talk. I did not initiate any move. Neither did she take a move. I did not even bother to hold her hand. We were quiet and cold as a cemetery. We watched the movie but I did not remember what we watched. Neither did she remember because she did not say anything about the movie.
The sepulchral silence was only broken when the movie ended. “Tara na (let's leave),” I told her. We walked to her dorm quietly. Then, I bid her goodbye and left to go home.
The following day, we were classmates again in another major subject. We did not talk. I did not have the nerve to talk to her. The semester ended and we parted ways. Since, she was graduating earlier, I did not see her again.
The so-called the lesson of the moral: Don't hesitate to borrow some funds from your date, if you run out of cash. But be sure to pay it back. Remember too that the dating norms and mores have changed over the last forty or fifty years
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