Mr. Mouth Down South

It was a typical Friday. A hot, humid, but thank-God-it’s-Friday Friday. I got to work early, and was texting with one of my “kids”-to-be. We had been in touch, and I first met him when I invited him for my birthday dinner earlier this month. I had promised to bring him to RITM to be registered, a promise that became urgent Friday as he told me he had a bad cough, a high fever, and was throwing up what he was eating. I was, of course, worried.

So I texted Ate, telling her about his condition, and asking for advice. She told me to bring him in ASAP, so he could be checked and medicated properly, and to make sure he wasn’t getting dehydrated. Okay. Considering it as an emergency, I left work early and met with my newest “kid”-to-be to take the trip to Alabang. It was late afternoon already, and I needed to text Ate that we were on our way, requesting for her to wait for us.

Getting there, we got first dibs with Ate. Seemed like everyone who went for check-ups were done already. The only other people there were those who were going to join the out-of-town for Doc’s birthday. I had no plans of going, first, because I was going to be on call for work this weekend due to an urgent account, and more importantly, a friend was in town from Germany, and we had agreed on this weekend to meet up and...

While my “kid” was in session with the doctor, I was chatting it up with one of the pusettes – female pusit? – someone who I really didn’t know well or talk to a lot, but to whom I made a mark when I gave her what condoms I had the last time I saw her, since she had plans to do “it” with her boyfriend. Hehehe. Funny, she put me on the spot about what happened to me and Papi, something that I myself couldn’t say and didn’t know. So I just told her to ask him herself.

So anyway, another group of guys was in the room, those who were going to Doctora’s birthday thingy. And then it started. I got asked if I was going. And then I got asked why I wasn’t. No, I wasn’t asked, I was attacked... by Mr. Mouth. When Mr. Mouth talks, he... really... talks. Ears bleed.

With a screech of a voice, Mr. Mouth was attacking me about why “we” aren’t participative, asking why “we” were letting off an exclusive and elusive vibe. We? We?! He, of course, was referring to my little pozzie posse. And even as I denied that “we” had any issues with “them”, he just wouldn’t stop badgering, going as far as saying “Eh, baket may chismis?”

Rumors? Oh please, grow up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. He was getting on my nerves already, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Eh kasi chismosa ka, kaya siguro may chismis.” I was half joking, but half just putting him in his right place.

At that point, I knew I didn’t need to defend myself. I was there to accompany my newbie and nothing else. And if not for this newbie, I wouldn’t even be there on that day and at that time in the first place. I would be working. So I focused on my newbie and just let the freakish voice go in one ear and out the other.

Our group? My pozzie posse? What’s the issue? While our “group” is a group, we are individuals. We are not clones of each other. We each have a mind to make decisions. We do not need to conspire about who and what we like. Each is entitled to his own opinions. Now if we just happened to not be at a certain event at the same time, or not be particularly drawn to the same person, it’s all coincidence.

The truth was, I did know that at least two of us were going, E and my eldest pozzie kid. But, again, I didn’t need to defend myself with that fact. The same way he didn’t need to insinuate his baseless accusations.

So just shut the hell up, Mr. Mouth. And as for the intrigues, cut your crap. Get a life... a life of your own. Consider this: the world does not revolve around you. If you think we have issues with you or whoever, then that’s your issue. You deal with it.

Wow, I was amazed. This person actually had the gall to show that he thought everything was about him. I won’t even hope that his “group” thinks the same way, or that he was speaking on their behalf. Everything was just about him, and “his group”. Amazing, amazing, amazing. So maybe that’s the problem? Is it just me, or does anyone else have issues with attention whores?

Anyhoo, from there, I managed to escape the clutches of Mr. Mouth. Away from the south, and away from the mouth, my new bunso and I headed off back north. He was just advised to stop what medication he was taking, try to rustle up a nebulizer in the meantime, and go back this coming week for his baseline tests.

As for me, I purged the negativity that I got showered with at the RITM, and just focused on staying positive for my newbie. And as for Mr. Mouth, I don’t look forward to seeing him again... or hearing him again for that matter. Here’s my foot... shove it. Oh, on second thought, EWWWWW. I wouldn't want to get my foot dirty. He can use his own.