Wala Lang

Once upon a time, I was wandering around outside Glorietta a foreign-looking guy came up to me, and asked, in heavily-accented English, "Excuse me, where can I find an `otel?" I looked at all the hotels around, and gave him a puzzled look, and waved my hand vaguely in the direction of the hotels all around us. He repeated his question, and his accent did not make his question any clearer. Again, puzzled look. Then he asked, "Do you speak English?" And I thought, "Well, yes, and better than you," but I kept silent and directed him to a security guard. Frustrated over my lack of assistance, he walked away, probably cursing me in whatever native tongue he spoke. Yes, I do my part to promote tourism in this country.

This so-called psychic who's been a pain in our office since Day One came in to file something last Friday. Apparently it had escaped his notice that my boss had been promoted to another office, and that we didn't have to put up with him anymore. When we directed him to go to the new Officer-in-Charge, he was taken aback, and asked, "Anong office na ba ito?" I was tempted to tell him, "Hulaan mo!" Psychic, indeed.