Around past 12 midnight, just earlier really, I got hungry. Maybe it was from watching Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, or the fact that the last time I actually ate something that could be considered a meal was around 10 or 11 in the morning, but either way I want to stuff my mouth with something filling. Now, our fridge is usually a desolate wasteland, with glass bottles of untouched cold water, packet of condiments, maybe a jar with some mayonnaise or sandwich spread, and of course, the take out food you left there and forgot, turning it into a mutated something you don't wanna touch, in fear of it suddenly coming to life and devouring your face. Tonight's no different. Well, there are a bunch of hotdogs, eggs, and Christmas ham, but I've been eating those damn things every time I get hungry at home for the past few weeks. Following the ideals of my favorite chain smoking chef, I set out of my condo and went somewhere to eat happily.
My plan was to eat at the nearby Chic-Boy, which was just a few minutes walk. As I reached the place, however, I found out that the place is jam packed with people, gorging down plates while downing a few beers, listening to the ear splitting sound system, and chatting about with friends and family. I still wanted to eat there though, having a strange craving for their Cebu liempo, but then I suddenly felt that maybe this isn't the right time for me to eat in this kind of place right now. I'm alone, wearing clothes, searching for a simple good relaxing meal, and alone. Hell, I might get even thoroughly depressed if I stay there, and I'm not really in the mood to drown my sorrows in meat and rice. So I turned my back and started walking in another direction.
Just a couple of minutes after leaving the noise and the munching, I came across Chick-In, a newly opened food place near President Tower in Timog, where my mom used to work. The concept's pretty much the similar to Chic-Boy, Mang Inasal, and other "roasted meat with unlimited rice" food chains. Something, however, lured me into that place, like a calling, or a whisper, or, I don't know, the fact that there's almost no people there save for two big-bellied guys drinking beer, but whatever it is, I put my feet towards that direction, opened the door, and went inside.
Now, I have to admit, the first thing I noticed was the wallpaper. It was fucking disturbing. Strangely-drawn chickens and chicks in a farm setting, being chased by a gay guy in a chicken costume. Who the fuck thought of that? Goddamn. But even with that horrible sight I still gave the place a chance, so went up to the cashier and ordered chicken pecho, or breast, which is a staple for these kinds of places. As I sat down my table, the two drinking buddies left, making me the only customer. For some reason, I felt... good. I don't know why. It was just relaxing just sitting there, waiting for your food. The crew was one of the friendliest crew I have met in a long time, always with a genuine smile on their faces and gives good attention to the lone guy sitting. Oh, and the music playing in the background. It wasn't some loud thumping, "shake yo ass" hip-hop, neither was it some shallow ass pop shit a grade schooler could make. It was 6cyclemind, an OPM band I like, who made simple, yet poetic, songs mostly about love, but sometimes just about life, not to mention "Sige" is on of my favorite drinking theme songs. And what's more, was that it was ALL 6cyclemind. I think it was from a "Best of" collection, but I don't care, it was awesome. Perfect timing of the universe.
"Biglaan", "Sandalan", "I", "Umaasa", "Prinsesa" (a remake of The Teeth's classic), plus all their other hits. These reminded me of a simpler time, when all I wanted to do is play my guitar and write either shitty love songs to women who will never hear them, or pretentious philosophical songs about life, death, and the shit that happens in between. Right now I know I'm in a lot of shit, with money, acads, and personal stuff really not in my favor, and I know that most, if not, all of them are my fault. I really felt that I was really about to breakdown and destroy myself. Again. If it wasn't for my love Liz, I would've just faced these with dread and panic. Now I'm still dreadful, but not panicking, and a lot more confident. Not to mention she's going to help me get back on track. Alors merci beaucoup, ma cherie.
Oh wait, the food. Right. So after 15 minutes my food finally arrived. The waiting was okay though, as I simply rocked out in silence and isolation, while the guy who's serving me was singing the choruses to the songs. The chicken was, well, decent. Just okay. But that didn't hinder me from having a good experience. The rice was, of course, unlimited, but I settled with only 2 and a half cups. As I chewed my mediocre poultry dish, I took a good look around with a look of content on my face and said to myself, "At this moment, I'm good." The strange combination of disturbing wall design, good music, okay food, and lack of other customers lifted my spirits up, and really kicked me into finally moving that theoretical foot of growth forward.
I finished my meal (There was free ice tea, so that was cool. Also, I'm not saying the food there isn't good, as there are other things to try), gave a good tip, and headed back home. That was the time I decided to finally a blog, which I hope would be my last attempt. And there, thus this entry was made. Within a couple more of No Reservations episodes, of course.
Oh, and, blahblah my first post blahblah.
Author's Note: This story is 95% true. The remaining 5% is the stuff that makes it sort of interesting to read.
