Then the time to break the silence was upon her so she screamed.
In the mundane side of life, there are stuff called bills and vacations. I invite you to free-associate about how the two could come together to make things interesting for someone who spends 80% of her waking hours mooning over the perfect recipe for macaroni salad.
Oh, where are my manners?
Hello, dear friends and familiar strangers! It’s been a while since I’ve set my foot in this here Broken Coffee Cafe. I do apologize for the dust on the furniture. I just got in after months of riding on a runaway, souped up roller coaster. Here, let me get a dishtowel and wipe down this bar stool. Come on closer and let’s chat awhile.
How has it been?
Stupendous? So-so? Middling? Huhum? Great?
As for me, I am still groggy from my runaway ride. It would have been fun, going 90 per hour, but the Deity of Practicality put his foot down and angrily exclaimed, “This has got to stop!”
So, stop I did. I had to leave the coaster on a soft shoulder somewhere along the South Luzon Expressway and hitch a ride back home.
But, I’m glad I did stop when I could. If I didn’t, I would not have realized that things were happening — things that were to have a great impact on my being and maybe to the reputation of the Broken Coffee Cafe as well.
Allow me to blush as I present this picture:
Michal T. Quiocho is actually the pseudonym of yours truly. I recall pouring out my heart and soul as I pounded away at the keyboard one gray December morning, struggling to get a load of flashbacks from my chest. Some sort of memoir took shape on the monitor. I sent it off to one of the editors of Philippine Daily Inquirer, hoping they would recognize a sliver of sense in my drivel that they will be moved to in the mood to publish something written about skin art and insanity.
And this is the gift of the New Year for me… published on page A-11 of the Philippine Daily Inquirer’s January 7 issue!!! I am cruising on the juices of my first publishing triumph.
So, Broken Coffee Cafe patrons, this is no longer just a so-so cafe with an insane proprietor. This is now a so-so cafe with an insane published proprietor. Prestige, neh? Cups up to that.
Hmmm… Do you think this could be enough justification if I charge a little higher for my day’s special? (drums fingers on the countertop)
I’ll think about it some other time. Now, I feel the Brag juice running out.
Seriously, thank you for putting up with every nonsensical stuff dished out here. As mentioned before, compulsive writing is still the best therapy (but don’t tell your shrink you got the info from me), and it gladdens the heart to see that there are actually some who take time to read the menu.
Best wishes to you this new year!
(For those who feel like reading an 800-word essay that will possibly make them sleep, click here for an online copy of the drivel photographed above. For those who may have the perfect recipe for macaroni salad, feel free to email me at derangedpalmist[at]gmail[dot]com or leave a comment.)