On The Search For True Love

As my Prince did not come to me over the past weekend, I went out in search of him. Early Monday morning I thought I dressed sensibly in mid-heel mules, black wrinkle-free skirt, plain white shirt and a colorful scarf.

Since I wanted someone from the working class, I had to go somewhere they converged.  Our local Starbucks was usually packed with Chinoy students. Off limits!

The next sensible place to look was at the LRT terminal, a block away.  People went there when they had somewhere to go.  On Mondays, it meant that they were off to work.  Unfortunately, female passengers are placed exclusively in the first two cars.  No males there but the elderly and handicapped.  No thanks!

I had no idea where I was going, it was the journey that thrilled me.  There was a dominance of the male species at the Baclaran terminal that were mostly shorter than I.  WARNING: Do not wear mules at rush hour!  You may lose your slipper before you get to dance with your Prince Charming.

I found myself hours later at a public park and contemplated my foolishness and weary feet.  I let my mules decide where to go next.  I ended up home and stayed under the covers for the next three days.