Good evening boys and girls.
With nothing better to do on a quiet Sunday evening, I thought I’d rattle up my old noggin and try to write something for a change, something that I should’ve written weeks ago.
Sit back boys and girls, I’ll tell you about how I went through the day when Typhoon Milenyo struck.
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Oh, how could I forget that faithful day, when my full figured boss called me up, and told me that I should deliver the daily time records of my fifty something associates to the main office before I get to work. The things I do just to save that sorry company.
Mind you, liaisons was never part of my job description, nevertheless, this fool, along with Mr. taxi cab driver, braved the early floods at around 7am and went to the main office like a good sheep, not minding the mass panic of anticipation over the super typhoon.
Little Michael then arrived at Paco around 730, and having spent a good 200 bucks for transportation (whom he didn’t reimburse), was naturally pissed. Thoughts about him making a statement against that crap of a third party agency ran through his mind then as he wandered about the office, looking for people to share his angst to.
The office was deserted. One of the bosses there whom he looked up to had a short talk with him. She mentioned that all employees should vacate the site by noon. He obliged.
Save for one faggy spineless associate, whom he made a fool of, that errand wasn’t that hard.
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Fast forward to noon. Another slutty former co-worker, all the way from Makati, foolishly went to the site just to meet her friends, and especially to a particular friend of hers whom she did nothing but to ogle about. Now, if only I had the stomach to respect that former co-worker, this story would be sunnier.
Ehem, now, this is where everything gets exciting (and foolish)…
Initial plans to go to some dingy karaoke bar along St. Scholastica’s College were scrapped to a more foolish idea.
WHY NOT GO TO MALL OF ASIA AMIDST AN APPROACHING SUPER TYPHOON?
It seemed like a fun and daring idea then; oh boy, were we wrong.
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I never understood God that day, why He spared ten lives that faithful day, when every sane person would scurry home, wet themselves silly and pray their rosaries.
In that short span of time (around 2-3 hours to be exact), where Milenyo passed, Mall of Asia was reduced to piles of rubbles, literally. Walls were swept by furious winds, exposing the Styrofoam coating, and ill-constructed ceilings.
Blackout. Dripping ceilings. Broken windows. Trees uprooted. The “S” of the “SM” signage wasn’t even spared. It was a sight comparable to a scene in the day after tomorrow.
It was a shame. Well, for the management at MOA, that is.
Everyone finally saw how ill constructed that mall was.
The super typhoon was so bad that you couldn’t make a cellphone call or send a text message for two days. Mall of Asia was so devastated that Starbucks can’t serve drinks made from crushed ice.
I’ll post the pictures as soon as I can get my Bluetooth dongle to work on my laptop.
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That night, Manila literally went to the dark ages. I had to brave the pitch-black Taft Avenue, and fight with other pissed people, drenched in rain, just to get a decent ride home.
Little Michael went to bed that night with a heart that thumped so hard, you could swear that Edgar Allan Poe got his Tell-Tale Heart story from him.
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If a super typhoon with winds that could literally rip walls off, uproot trees, crush ceilings and expose its wirings comes, STAY HOME.
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