Paranoia in Manila

I found myself constantly looking left and right.

I clutched to my sling handbag to make sure that I haven't dropped anything.

I took the jeep from Pacific Star trying to look the least bit inconspicuous as possible, even as I wore my bright, shocking aqua blue felt covered jogging jacket on a innocently warm and damp noon day.

I proceeded to get off the public jeep at the Makati Landmark stop and walked non chalantly towards the Greenbelt area, crossing the street and avoiding getting hit by cars.

I passed by Bizu, crossed the entrance to the Greenbelt carpark, turned right and faced the McDonalds branch near the old Greenbelt Mall. I called up a friend along the way to keep my thumping, paranoid heart in order, and while passing by the McDonalds branch, saw two men, a yellow skinned, chinese one, and a brown skinned filipino, meet and give each other a quick smack on the lips. I quickly recounted this to my friend while nervously still giggling away.

I hung up my phone and said goodbye to my friend as after a few steps, I saw the non descript office on the opposite side of the road - my destination - and nervously walked towards the entrance, still eyeing my surroundings and making sure that I remained as inconspicuous as possible. The main door and its front entrance is made up of clear window-glass, but tinted in a shade that would avoid any passersbys outside to identify the people within. As I approached the entrance, the doorman let me in with a curious nod. I settled to the counter and I reached down within my bag to produce two ugly 4"x6" green cards and handed the lady at the other side of the counter with them, as well as delivering a slightly conscious and sickeningly sweet but paranoid smile.

She takes a look at them, smiles in that irritating way that most counter ladies do, and asked me to wait for a bit.

After a few minutes of trying to look busy reading a Newsweek magazine lying about, the counter lady came out with two small manila-envelope type packages on her hand. She carefully opened them and with a soft delicate touch, produced the two goods for my inspection. I carelessly looked at them, and with a pained smile, gave her the nod of agreement indicating that all is as expected, and produced a gold card and a quick, written scrawny signature to complete the transaction.

"Would you like to wear them, or should I just put them back into their packaging?" she inquired respectfully.

I gave her an incredulous face, and a twisted, funny-you-should-suggest-that smile.

She smiled at me sheepishly to admit the absurdity of her suggestion, and placed the goods back into the envelopes.

At this moment I was contemplating on asking for the ladies room, and cram the small, non descript envelopes into my underpants, but thought better of it. Maybe it would be better if I stuffed them both in each of my running shoes.

Maybe I should get going.

Instead, I just crammed them into my handbag and walked out of the room and into the busy street. Looking left and right, I walked a bit across and turned at the McDonalds corner, still weighing whether I should take the public transport back to Pacific Star, and where. That same morning I was unable to find the jeep to Pacific Star, and had to resort to walking several blocks from Ayala Center to Buendia Avenue. That wasn't the best of options at the moment.

Then when water droplets started coming down on my head.

Great.

Thoughts of blood, violence and a string of expletives now abound within my head. If only someone was nice enough to drive me anywhere, or given me a free hand on driving one of the cars at home, or given me a personal, well trusted driver, or...

Darn.

I might as well get a taxi.

I hopped into a taxi, and proceeded to call one of my other friends to keep my company and quell my already paranoid state. I glanced back nervously at the driver, and proceeded to talk to my friend and hoping that the distraction (and the taxi) would get me as quick as lightning to my destination back to Pacific Star.

Upon arriving, the rest of my afternoon in the Oracle office was spent plaguing on scenarios that would haunt me.

Finally, the end of the day arrived and with my relief, jumped into my significant other's car and let out a huge, stress relieving sigh. What a horrible day.

Having picked up two serviced Rolexes in your hand bag and walking and commuting around Manila isn't one of the best way to spend your vacation.