Accidents

On Accidents.

There I was, alone in the lunch line, checking out the gallery of edibles. From the big 'palayok' of rice, to the trays of 'ulams' spread out, to the bananas hanging sweetly, I took serious thoughts on what to eat. It was my 4th day without 'baon' from home. Our cook took a nice long vacation, and I was left with the city lunches offered nearby our building.

A bright silvery tray, those used by caterers in weddings and other luncheons, called my attention, amongst the dozen of food laid out. Perhaps it was the sweet honey yellow 'something' that was attractive. I asked Mr. Cook what it was. "Isda po ba?" He said yes. There were other fishes in the sea, I thought. But this.. it was something bright, and perky, and smelled of butter. I could not resist butter, and lemon. I could already taste it, while still in line.

I took spoon and fork, and sat down near the big TV flat screen which was showing some slick B-movie action flick.

I sliced the 'fish meat' and noticed the heavy-ness in cutlery exploration. I thought, "Oh well. I'm hungry." That was that. I forked it down, then proceeded in mouthing it. Then, I felt a bit aghast that fishy meaty was a bit too meaty and chewy, in fact. Yes. As I've thought. It was chicken. Chicken meat. The last time I had chicken was when my friends playfully offered me chicken, while on a boat trip in the middle of the sea, in northern Palawan. Supposedly, they forgot the fish and cooked only chicken. You see, I don't eat anything meat.

Here I was, eating chicken, watching a movie with truck and motorcycle chases in tunnels. And I could've not eaten. But I already paid, and I was left with 20 bucks today. And there, the sobriety of economics and the notoriety of accidents.